Out of the Night COMPLETED AUGUST 11
by Yonder Come Day
Summary: When Sirius gets hurt in a Voldemort attack,lots of things happen. Will Sirius get a trial? Time travel,pranks,foreshadowing dreams,romance,new characters... And what about Fudge? The Weasleys? Hermione? Lupin? Pettigrew? And of course,Harry?
1. Strange Conversations and Even Stranger ...

Disclaimer: Two reasons that I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it—1)Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? and 2)Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? And I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
A/N: I want to thank everyone who's reading this sentence—thank you soooo much that you've decided to give my story a try! Thank you! This is my first published fanfiction story, and also my first that has ever exceeded a single page. Since I couldn't fit the summary that I would have liked to post on the Harry Potter FanFiction.Net page, I'll put it here, somewhat in full: When Sirius gets injured in a Voldemort attack, Harry goes to visit him in St. Mungo's. Lots of other stuff follows—whether Fudge is giving Sirius a trial, Harry is having foreshadowing dreams, a teensy bit of romance (Harry/Ginny, and some other stuff later on that I'm not saying yet!), time travel, more Voldemort attacks, new characters, legal stuff, and other things that I'm sure I'm forgetting.....  
  
It's PG-13 because of some mild swear words here and there, some not exactly lovely stuff happens in later chapters, and there's tiny bit of romance later on, too. =italics  
  
Chapter One—Strange Conversations and Even Stranger Dreams  
  
Harry Potter was not having a good day.  
  
The day had started off with Harry—due his stupid broken Muggle alarm clock--failing to wake up early enough to clean the bathrooms, something that he really wasn't looking forward to doing, as he found it quite disgusting. He wanted to get the chore over and done with as soon as was humanly possible, and as a result, he was rushing through the cleaning of the upstairs bathroom when he slipped on the wet linoleum floor and banged his head on the bathtub.  
  
There was still a consistent ringing in his ears as he made Dudley's breakfast later that morning, causing him to gaze out the window, lose concentration and burn his cousin's pancakes. When Dudley received his burnt food, he wasn't very happy, to say the least. He moved as if he was going to give Harry a good, hard smack in revenge but instead fell off his chairs—yes, chairs, he now had to sit on two chairs as his large behind wouldn't fit on one. When he landed on the floor, he started bawling and wailing his head off, causing Uncle Vernon to come half running, half falling into the kitchen to see what was wrong. In response to Dudley's yelling, Uncle Vernon took Dudley's Smelting stick from school and slapped Harry—hard—across the knee.  
  
After breakfast was thankfully over, Harry limped his way up to his room, wincing and scowling angrily as he lost his footing at one point while climbing up the steps and his hurt knee jerked painfully forward. When he finally entered his small room, he fairly collapsed on his bed before turning to talk to Hedwig, an activity that he had been doing a lot of in recent days. Since his fourth year at Hogwarts had ended three weeks before, Harry had spent a lot of time up in his room, alone, without any human contact whatsoever. He couldn't talk to the Dursleys about anything, even if he had wanted to—which was extremely unlikely in itself--so he resigned to his new favorite conversation partner—a bird.  
  
It didn't matter if that particular bird was nocturnal and happened to be asleep at that moment. Harry felt like talking anyway, and so he did.  
  
"Stupid Dursleys," He muttered bitterly, resting his head on his bed's old pillow. "You know what, Hedwig? I hate them. I really, really do. They're a poor excuse for a family.....if you could even call them a family in the first place....."  
  
Hedwig shifted slightly from her position in her birdcage. Taking her head out from under her wing with an almost human-like reluctance, she looked at him and hooted softly. Harry ignored her and continued to talk very animatedly, his hands gesturing around as he spoke, staring at the ceiling. "They don't care about me in the least, and I don't care about them.....ugh, why do I even have to be here.....?" He paused for a second, then sighed. "I wonder what my mum would say if she saw her sister now....."  
  
The owl cocked her head quizzically at him in a way that was quite comical, and would have normally made Harry laugh if he wasn't feeling so miserable at the moment. So instead of laughing, he turned to her and frowned. "My mum's sister thinks my mum was crazy because she was a witch, and they didn't like my dad and any of their friends because of it, and now the Dursleys think I'm crazy because I'm a wizard." A small ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He couldn't remember the last time he had truly smiled. "Well, I'm not completely crazy, am I, Hedwig?"  
  
Hedwig simply stared at him, her beak opening and closing once, making a faint clicking sound.  
  
"You don't think I'm crazy, do you, Hedwig?"  
  
After just staring at him for a moment more, Hedwig hopped out of her cage, spread her wings, flapped them a few times, then flew clear out the window, swooping on the cool morning air.  
  
Harry stared at the empty spot in her cage where she had just been moments before, then laughed suddenly—something that he hadn't been doing a lot of recently, either, his last true laugh probably being before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. His laugh now was soft and bitter, and what little humor there was in his laughter didn't quite reach his bright green eyes.  
  
"Maybe, I am crazy. Yeah, I bet I am—look at me, sitting here, talking to an owl." He paused for a second, glanced at Hedwig's empty cage, then laughed again. "Even when there is currently no owl to talk to."  
  
Harry sighed and closed his eyes. As soon as his mind was somewhat calm, he found himself inevitably thinking of Hogwarts and how much he missed it. He missed the location—it was certainly nicer than Privet Drive—he missed Quidditch, he missed his classes, he even missed homework and exams to study for, simply because they gave him something that he could keep busy and occupy his mind with. For the past few weeks, the definition of a productive evening for Harry was lying on his bed, talking to Hedwig, staring at the ceiling, and maybe reading the occasional Daily Prophet that Hermione sent him.  
  
As he thought about the Daily Prophet, he speculated about what was going on in the magical world while he was stuck here in Official Boring Muggleville.....and then soon, as inevitably as was thinking about Hogwarts, Voldemort was filling his thoughts.  
  
Whenever his mind turned to the uprising of the Dark Lord, the sick, scared, nervous knot that seemed to forever reside in his stomach seemed to intensify, if that was at all possible. There were going to be more Death Eater attacks.....and more deaths.....and things would probably be worse than they were fourteen years ago, because Harry had a horrible feeling of foreboding that Voldemort was more powerful this time around.  
  
He tried desperately to push these disturbing thoughts out of his pounding head, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knew that it was no use. Even if he could push thoughts of Voldemort away from him now, they would plague him later, no doubt. Maybe while he was eating lunch with the Dursleys, or trying to catch glimpses of the evening news on the telly. Even if he somehow did manage to keep all thoughts of the Dark Lord away from him during the day, they would most certainly haunt him at night.....in his dreams.....while he slept.....  
  
As he thought about sleep, Harry grew steadily more tired. He sighed, turning over on his side. Well, now was as good as time as any to take a nap.....maybe it was due to the semi-conscious thoughts about the magical world floating around in his brain, but Harry begin to dream.  
  
Sirius Black was not having a good day.  
  
The day found Sirius in his dog form pawing through dumpsters in a rather disgusting alleyway, looking for food. He had not eaten very much the day before, and he was getting very tired of searching the city of Southampton on the coast of southern England looking for somebody's leftover fish and chips, which he had never really liked very much in the first place.  
  
Of course, if there weren't any leftovers that he could find—which was unlikely in itself—there were always the rats to eat. Sirius had somewhat of a grudge against rats and had no problem with the idea of eating them, but the actual eating of them.....? Well. They weren't exactly the tastiest creatures in the world, very slimy and disgusting.....and in that respect, they reminded Sirius of Severus Snape.  
  
After thinking that thought, if dogs could smile, a very particular large black one would have right at that moment. Back when Sirius was a student at Hogwarts and unhappy for some reason or another—perhaps one of his girlfriends broke up with him after he commented admirably on the looks of another girl—James would always talk about Slimy Snape to cheer Sirius up.  
  
But Sirius was having even less and less to smile about in the days and weeks that followed the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. Not only did he have Dumbledore's orders to fulfill—he was searching for a particularly slimy rat that went by the name of Wormtail—he was also very concerned about someone else in his life.  
  
Although he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone right then and there, he was worried to death about Harry. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on finding Pettigrew, the name of his godson kept flicking through his mind at regular intervals and distracting him from his work.  
  
Damn that Fudge, Sirius thought furiously. If it wasn't for that infuriating son-of-a-gun, I wouldn't be in this ridiculous situation. Mind you, if it wasn't for Fudge, I would also probably be a free man now..... But then suddenly, Sirius stopped himself.  
  
Wormtail, Sirius told himself sternly, trying to focus and keep his mind on one track. Giving up on finding anything edible in the alleyway, he started trotting out to the street. Think about Wormtail.  
  
But at that moment whatever god that had previously neglected Sirius chose that moment to send a smiling, laughing boy of about twelve walking down the sidewalk with someone who was obviously his father. They were walking a dog.  
  
Harry, Sirius thought suddenly, freezing in his tracks and watching the trio pass him. Oh, what he would give to be that father.....or even that dog, for that matter. That was how things should have been. Harry should have grown up with Sirius, not with those awful Muggles, and if that had happened, then more likely than not Sirius wouldn't be stuck on the coast of England, hiding his wand behind dumpsters while looking for a murderer and for food in the garbage cans.  
  
But then Sirius came to and gave himself a mental shake of the head—not physical, he seriously doubted dogs did that. Wormtail. Find Wormtail.  
  
Sirius was just about to get back to his searching when he was distracted once again. At first he didn't realize what he was distracted by, and was about to give a growl of frustration, when he realized that there appeared to have been some sort of small explosion down near the other end of the alley that he had just come from.  
  
What the hell..... He thought, inwardly frowning, and spun around to see what was going on behind him and what had caused the explosion. Nothing could have prepared him, however, for what he saw, and he let out an involuntary yelp of surprise at the sight that awaited him. This couldn't be happening.....no.....it couldn't be.....  
  
Death Eaters. There appeared to be about fifteen or twenty of them, setting off small explosions near the other end of the alley. Sirius watched, frozen to his spot, as all the Death Eaters pointed their wands to the ground—in unison—and set off another small explosion that contributed to a fire that the first one had caused.  
  
Death Eaters..... Sirius thought, amazed. Death Eaters here.....in Southampton? Right next to me? Is this a coincidence? But then all thoughts of strange coincidences left his mind as he realized something else. Death Eaters. That means Wormtail.....could he? Could he be here?  
  
Sirius soon found, though, that it was near impossible to tell one Death Eater from the other, what with their identical long cloaks and hoods pulled up over their faces to prevent just what Sirius wanted to do: Identify them. And, with the black smoke filling the alley, he probably wouldn't have been able to see the Death Eaters faces clearly even if they weren't covered. It occurred to him that the Death Eaters had probably planned it this way.  
  
Normally, he would have picked up Wormtail's too familiar scent by now if he indeed was among the Death Eaters, but the acrid smell of smoke from the fires was just enough to overpower Sirius's acute dog sense of smell. He had rarely ever felt so frustrated.....  
  
There was another small explosion, this time closer to Sirius. His dog reflexes kicked in and he jumped backwards a little, whimpering. He could feel the wave of heat that was made by the blast, and screaming Muggles from the streets started to run away from the alley.  
  
Sirius found himself having an internal struggle. His human instincts wanted to go join the crowds of running, terrified Muggles as they sprinted away from the danger, and his dog instincts wanted to get as far away as was possible from the spot he was in and maybe hide behind a fire hydrant. Both parts of him could have easily compromised with the other, but there was another voice in the back of his head, a very stern voice, a voice that reminded Sirius unnervingly of Minerva McGonagall—telling him what he should really do.  
  
There was another explosion. The Death Eaters were moving farther down the alley and closer to the large black dog; and the force of the explosion—stronger than the others—threw Sirius back into a trash bin.  
  
Sirius fought the overwhelming urge to bury himself in the garbage that was surrounding him and maybe find a chicken bone or two, and forced himself to think rationally. Rational thought was shoved from his mind, however, as he nearly jumped out of his skin when the body of a dead Muggle was flung at his feet. Sirius stared at the corpse—that of a young man who looked only to be a few years younger than Sirius himself—with unblinking eyes, surprised and terrified beyond comprehension.  
  
Sirius stood up then on four shaky legs. He knew what he had to do. He was fairly sure that there were no wizards in the immediate area, because he thought that if there were they would have been at the site long before now. Someone had to do something, and it seemed he was the only one capable of doing anything until the Ministry of Magic got there.  
  
He transformed.  
  
Sirius had only been a human for a total of about two seconds when there was yet another explosion, this time right at Sirius's feet. Luckily, the force of the blast threw him backwards before the fire started so he wasn't burnt—but the force was so strong that Sirius found himself being thrown into the back of the alley with his arm being bent back behind him and his head slamming against the brick wall.  
  
Two thoughts drifted through his half-conscious mind before he completely passed out.  
  
First, he hoped that the father, his son, and their dog had gotten far away from the alley before the explosions had started.  
  
The second thought was simpler.  
  
Harry.  
  
At the exact moment that Sirius Black lost consciousness, a teenage boy sleeping in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive was jerked out of sleep. He had had the strangest dream.....but had it been a dream?  
  
Harry noted quite distantly that he had an overwhelming fear inside of him, a fear for the safety of his godfather.  
  
A/N: If you love it and want to praise me, review. If you hate it and want to flame me, review. If you're ambivalent and have nothing to say—still review!  
  
Thanks for reading!  
  
IMPORTANT A/N ADDED 9/20/03: I am beginning to do a big old rewrite of this whole story—fixing things I don't like, filling in holes in the plot, doing technical editing, etc. But one thing I am not going to do is "Order of the Phoenix-ize" it. I started writing this story over a year before the 5th book came out, and although I finished it after June 21st, I didn't change anything. I kept to the vision that I had started with, and didn't alter anything that I hadn't known about at the time—like the appearance of St. Mungo's, the presence of Grimmauld Place, etc. I don't call this story an AU, though. I just lump all these stories written between July 8th, 2000 and June 21st, 2003 into one category: STWWBTFB—Stories That Were Written Before The Fifth Book. So there you have it. And now back to the story. 


	2. Worries and Newspapers

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't makre a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
A/N: Thanks to the reviewers, soooo much!  
  
  
Chapter Two-Worries and Newspapers  
  
  
  
  
Harry sat up straight in bed, heart pounding in his chest.  
  
Sirius...Thoughts were swimming through Harry's head. Sirius...  
  
Something was very, very wrong-Harry knew that much. But what, exactly..."what" was a very good question indeed.  
  
Harry had had the strangest dream. He had dreamt that Sirius was in Southampton and had been involved in another attack by Voldemort. Just the thought made Harry shiver with fear. He rubbed his scar wearily, and dimly realized that it had a dull burning sensation.  
  
What if Sirius had gotten hurt-thought Harry desperately. -Or worse...  
  
No. Harry refused to believe that his only family in the world had been killed. No.  
  
Struggling to push these thoughts and horrible images of Sirius lying unconscious in a burnt alley out of his mind, Harry tried to think clearly past the pain in his scar.  
  
Okay. I have to get to Sirius-but how? He's in Southampton...and I can't very well go to there...  
  
Harry was at a loss. He didn't have any Floo Powder (he didn't have a fireplace to put it in anyway); he couldn't take the Knight Bus because it was the middle of the day (he wouldn't know where to tell the conductor, Stan Shunpike, to go anyway.)  
  
Harry knew he had to get to get to Sirius, to get to Southampton where the attack was...granted, if there even was an attack in the first place...  
  
Wait a second, Harry thought suddenly. What if there wasn't an attack? What if it really is just a dream? What if I'm getting all worked up about nothing?   
  
He rubbed his forehead, frowning. But the dream-it seemed so real! And his scar...it didn't just hurt for no reason. The only other times it had hurt was when Voldemort was really near...or feeling very "murderous," as Dumbledore had called it...  
  
It wouldn't be smart for Harry to go running off in a panic to get to Sirius without proof that anything had really happened to him, and he knew that. But how could he find out if something had happened? Dumbledore had sent a very polite letter to Harry in the beginning of the summer saying that he couldn't write to Sirius until Sirius wrote to him, because it was too dangerous, and Sirius was moving around too much anyway.  
  
I could write to Dumbledore...Harry thought, then quickly pushed the idea from his mind. No. Dumbledore had enough to worry about, and didn't need to hear a fourteen year-old boy going on about his nightmares. Scratch that idea...  
  
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Harry knew that his friend still received the Daily Prophet to keep up with the wizarding world during the summer. He could just tell her that he was curious to what was going on because he's been so cut off...if there really was an attack, it was bound to be in the newspaper. There was no possible way it wouldn't be.  
  
Grabbing his quill, he quickly wrote his friend a short note, making sure not to include anything about Sirius, his dream, or his scar. Hermione meant well, really, but she could get somewhat protective of Harry at times and he knew that if he told her those things she would insist he tell Dumbledore-and if he wouldn't, she probably would herself.  
  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
  
Hello-I'm okay, how are you doing? I have a favor to ask of you: I know your still getting the Daily Prophet, and maybe you can send me the latest issue after your done reading it? I'm completely cut off from the wizarding world, and I'd like to know what's going on.  
  
Thanks-  
Harry  
  
  
Harry had a sudden urge to add a P.S. and tell Hermione how worried he was about the safety Sirius-the urge to confide in someone was a bit overwhelming--but instead he resisted it and folded up the letter, placing it on the top of his trunk where it awaited Hedwig's return.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
Hermione Granger was not having a good day.  
  
She had fallen asleep late the night before, and (for no apparent reason), woken up early the next morning. The fact that there wasn't a reason why she woke up infuriated her, she hated being woken up on days she could sleep late...unless, of course, she needed to study for an exam. She didn't deal with the loss of sleep well, and she was never one to take naps during the day. As a result, she was grumpy and easily annoyed and irritated this particular morning, but she cheered up a bit when an owl carrying the Daily Prophet flew in her bedroom window.  
  
After the owl flew out the window, hooting happily, Hermione flopped down on her bed and unrolled the newspaper. She was feeling much better and had a small smile on her face that quickly vanished as she read the words that screamed across the front page.  
  
  
  
DEATH EATER ATTACK IN SOUTHAMPTON, SIRIUS BLACK INVOLVED AND CAPTURED!  
  
  
Hermione gasped. She jumped to her up off her bed and dropped the newspaper in surprise, staring at the article that lay at her feet.  
  
"Oh no...oh no, Sirius...Sirius...oh no!"  
  
She was standing in shock, her hands clapped across her mouth and her eyes wide with horror, thoughts racing through her head, but only one thought completely registering.   
  
What's going to happen now?  
  
  
  
A/N: This chapter is shorter than the others...but the chapters get longer, I think my chapter 8 is about six pages...  
  
Does this seem too repetitive? I don't know it just kindsa seems like it's not going anywhere...the next chapter things start to happen, I promise you! Yup yup...oh come on, only five reviews? People, people-you can do better than that! I know some people are probably reading this and not reviewing...I know because I used to do the same thing, until I realized how much authors appreciate reviews...so please please pretty please (with sugar on top) review! Right I'll shut up now...  
  
Anonymous: Yay! My first reviewer! Thanks! Well actually your sort of the second because I had my friend read this story first...but you're the first to post a review.  
  
Nicky: I'm continuing, don't worry! :)  
  
Evil spapple pie: Hey I like your name! Lol thanks...  
  
Celestial princess: Yeah Dena, I finally put this up-let's break a leg tomorrow! (Or two, for that matter...)  
  
Well duh...: You're the second person wh's said I'm off to good start...yay thanks!  
  
  
The reason this wasn't up earlier (as in, much earlier) is because the uploading thingy on FanFiction.Net was down...on Tuesday, then on Wednesday I tried again to upload this but the site was saying "file did not upload correctly" grrr....blame them, not me! Oh just so everyone will know, on the 17th I'm going away for two weeks and won't be able to update, and then I'm starting a new school that gives a lot of homework...oy, maybe I shouldn't have started this story now...ah, well, don't worry, I'll continue as best I can come September, but updates might not be so frequent then... 


	3. An Unexpected Meeting

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't makre a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
A/N: I'd just like to take this oppurtunity to thank my friend Dena (celestial princess) for getting me to work on this story again! It's so much fun!  
  
  
  
Chapter Four: An Unexpected Meeting  
  
  
  
  
Harry stayed in his room all morning, waiting for Hedwig to return so he could send out Hermione's letter. For Harry, it was a form of torture; horrible images of Sirius lying bloody and hurt in a deserted alley kept on flashing through his mind. He wondered what on Earth an owl-a nocturnal bird-was doing in the middle of the day if it was not sleeping.  
  
Finally, a little before lunchtime, Harry got such a case of cabin fever that he left his room with the vague idea of sitting out in the front yard to get some fresh air.  
  
"You-boy!" Barked a familiar voice as Harry reached for the doorknob. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Outside," Harry told Uncle Vernon promptly.  
  
Uncle Vernon glared at him for a moment before responding. "Well, while you're at it, go the store and pick up the necessities," he said, thrusting a handful of bills into Harry's hand.  
  
The "necessities" in the Dursley home were chocolate ice cream, potato chips, donuts, and various other assorted junk food-the only kind Dudley would eat. His diet of the previous summer had been abandoned long ago.  
  
Harry was surprised that Uncle Vernon had trusted him with money and the task of getting Dudley's food, but he took advantage of the oppurtunity to get out of the house and into the sunshine. Even though the scent of flowers began to clear his head, in the back of his mind somewhere there was the nagging worry about his godfather.  
  
Taking his time and walking slowly down the street, Harry suddenly realized how much he really cared about Sirius, and how much he really missed him ever since he left after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. He was the only person Harry could ever remember caring about him in a familial way.  
  
Except Mrs. Weasley, Harry reminded himself, but he couldn't help thinking that she didn't really count all that much. She was really great and all, but she was his friend's mother, not his own. Even though the Weasleys cared about him and enjoyed his presence, Harry couldn't help feeling like a bit of an outsider-like a black colored raven tossed into the midst of brightly colored tropical birds. Even so, the Burrow and Hogwarts were the only places Harry had ever felt accepted.  
  
And the Dursleys...they didn't count at all. They had never cared for him in the least, and Harry didn't care about them. Sirius...he was the only family Harry had left. If something were to happen to him...Harry tried not to think about it, because as he did a sick feeling began to fill up the empty hole in his heart.  
  
Still lost in thought, Harry turned the corner-and immediately bumped into another person on the sidewalk.  
  
Harry gasped in surprise, seeing the other person's bag lying on the ground. "Oh-oh, I'm sorry!" The other person cried in surprise.  
  
"No, I'm sorry, it was my fault," said Harry, blushing bright red as he bent to pick up the other person's bag, noticing with a jolt that the other person was a girl, and carefully trying to cover his face. "I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry..."  
  
He looked up from kneeling on the ground to see the other person staring down at him. The sun was glaring from behind her and he couldn't see who she was, but she seemed to know him...Harry was beginning to get a headache. What was going on here?  
  
Harry quickly stood up, clutching the bag in his hand--but not before the girl spoke.   
  
"Harry?" She said, disbelieving.  
  
Harry looked to see who it was, and his mouth dropped open at the sight of looking Hermione Granger.  
  
"Herm...Hermi...Hermione?" He couldn't have been more surprised if he had seen Remus Lupin strolling down the street. "Wait a second, what on Earth...?"  
  
But Harry was unable to get another word in, though, when Hermione cried out, "Oh, Harry!", burst into tears, and pulled him into a tight hug.  
  
Harry was too surprised to return the hug, and was even more dumbfounded as Hermione, still crying, released the hug and stepped back, holding Harry at arm's length, her hands tight on his shoulders. Getting a good look at his friend, Harry could see that her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying long before he had arrived. Her hair was bushier then it usually was-which, considering it's average bushiness, was saying something--and she seemed to radiate an aura of frustration and sadness.  
  
"Hermione, what's wrong? What's going on?"  
  
She shook her head and let go of his shoulders, covering her face with her hands, tears dropping through her fingers.  
  
"Hermione-what is it?"  
  
"No...no...no..." She sobbed through her hands.  
  
"Yes, yes, yes!" Harry cried, beginning to get nervous. The last time he had seen Hermione this distressed was when he had been thrown of his broom in a Quidditch game in his first year. "I swear, if you don't tell me what's going on..."  
  
She removed her face from her hands and stared at him, her sobs quieting. "You don't know, do you?"  
  
Harry shook his head slowly, staring at his friend. Fear was beginning to creep into him.  
  
"You don't...you don't know! You really-" Sob. "-don't-" Sob. "-know!" Hermione cried. She now broke down completely, positively wailing as she pulled him into a tighter hug then the first one.  
  
Harry was really scared by now. Resisting the urge to shake the information out of the girl, he pulled himself out of her grip, fixing a stare on her face. She looked at him, her eyes wide.  
  
"Hermione." Harry said in a distinctively would-be-calm voice. "What. Don't. I. Know." As much as he tried to conceal it, his voice shook as he spoke.  
  
"Oh, Harry! You-Know-Who...Sirius...hurt...caught...Fudge..."  
  
Harry could have sworn that his heart had stopped beating for a few seconds. Filled with dread, he slipped to the ground, grabbing a still crying Hermione's arm and pulling her down with him. His voice thick, he managed to force out four words.  
  
"Tell me what happened."  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh my goodness I'm getting such good reviews, thanks, all of you! Reviews rock, I've begun to check for them all the time...I think I'm beginning to live off of them, their my food, like I absorb them through some photosynthesis-like process from off the computer. Hmmm...  
  
There might be a period of time in a few days where I won't be able to update for a few days because my dad's friend is going to sell us a laptop if my dad says it's okay (pray for me!)-so if I do get that laptop, it might take a little bit to transfer EVERYTHING from this computer to that one...I dunno though, we'll see, I don't know anything about laptops.  
  
Once again, a short chapter. Sorry, everyone! Does this chapter seem like it's not going anywhere? It seems kind of repetitive to me, and like it's moving slowly.  
  
Lady Python: Yeah, poor Sirius! I never though I'd be doing bad things to him, he's one of my favorite characters.  
  
Neutral: No problem, I was really excited when I posted the first chapter, I felt like emailing the whole world...Ideas for details in chapters just seem to flow from my head onto the computer screen without ever passing through my fingers or the keyboard, and all that stuff about Sirius's thoughts just sort of came out of no where. Yeah, I though it was funny about Harry talking to Hedwig...I talk to my cats sometimes when I'm alone in the house. Thanks a bunch!  
  
Lily Potter: This story is going to unfold into a LOT, trust me...thanks a lot...everyone is saying that this story is off to a good start, I guess it must be! :)  
  
  
Anonymous: Merci beacoup (that's "Thanks a lot" in French)  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Yeah, this chapter is pretty short, they get longer though.  
  
Wellduh... :Your wish has been granted! 


	4. Unwelcome News

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't makre a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
Chapter Five-Unwelcome News  
  
  
  
Despite her sputtering protests, Harry made her tell him everything she knew, from the beginning, and show him the Daily Prophet article.  
  
In the article, it said how a large group of Death Eaters, including Sirius Black, (It made Harry's blood boil to read about his godfather in such a way) had attacked a Muggle street in Southampton. Two Muggles were killed, and in one of the explosions "Black's comrades" had committed what is known as friendly fire, and accidentally injured Black when trying to hurt the Muggles. "Black appears to have been thrown against the wall of an alley that is connected to the street in which the Death Eaters attacked," the article read. "The Ministry has taken him into custody, and under the insistence of the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, Black is being treated at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for a head injury and sprained arm."  
  
When Harry read in the article that Sirius was at St. Mungo's, he let out a yell and jumped to his feet, startling a Muggle passerby, who gave him and Hermione a what-a-bunch-of-weirdos-look. Hermione glared at Harry.  
  
"Harry, sit down, your attracting attention, plase sit down-"  
  
"Let's go to St. Mungo's!" Harry interrupted quickly. Hermione, looking annoyed, frowned at him from where she still sat on the ground. She had stopped crying, and had returned to her rather bossy self.  
  
"Harry, no. We can't just go running off to the hospital-besides, how would we get there?"  
  
"I don't know, Floo Powder?" Harry said helplessly. He wasn't thinking either clearly or reasonably, all he wanted to do was get to Sirius as quickly as humanly possible. "Does it really matter, Hermione?"  
  
"Of course it matters!" She cried, getting to her feet. She had obviously forgotten what she had just told Harry about not attracting attention. She put her hands on her hips, frowned at him, and tapped her left foot impatiently in a way that would have been comical if it weren't for their situation. "Harry, how are we supposed to get to the hospital if we don't have a way to get to the hospital..."  
  
Harry stared blankly at her for a moment before collapsing down on the curb once again, staring at his feet.  
  
Hermione sat down next to her friend, studying him carefully. Then she sighed.   
  
"I know this isn't exactly the easiest for you, Harry, but, well..." She gulped. "Harry, finish reading the article."  
  
Wondering what more could be wrong, he directed his attention to the Daily Prophet, and read the next paragraph of the article.  
  
"Dumbledore has also insisted that Black be given a fair trial, after him not having one when he was taken to Azkaban fourteen years ago. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, however, has different views on the subject. 'Black is a convicted man,' The Minister has been reported saying. 'We have been looking for him for a long time, and there is no need to give him a trial now. After he is treated for his injuries, he will be taken back to Azkaban.'"  
  
"WHAT!" Harry yelled, jumping to his feet again in surprise. "No, they can't, they can't-"  
  
"Harry, sit down," Hermione hissed, grabbing Harry's arm and yanking him to the ground. He had yelled so loudly that a family of Muggles across the street turned to look at him in alarm. "I know what it says, I read the article! Harry..." Her voice turned soft and scared. "I don't know what to do."  
  
Hermione doesn't know what to do, that's a first, Harry thought dryly. They sat in silence for a few minutes, not speaking. Harry considered, for a moment, telling Hermione about the dream and his scar, but then quickly decided against it. Hermione looked distressed enough as it was, and he couldn't bring himself to make her start crying again. Then suddenly, another thought occurred to Harry. Frowning, he turned to Hermione.  
  
"Umm, Hermione?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
Hermione stared at him, not understanding. "Say what?"  
  
"What are you doing here? Here, in Little Whinging? You don't live  
here," Harry reminded her.  
  
"No, I don't," Hermione agreed. "I, well, I came to find you. I didn't have an owl to use to send you the Daily Prophet article by, so I had my mum take me over here on a bus, and I came to find you. She's out shopping," she added, answering the unspoken question.  
  
Harry stared at her. "You really, really need to get your own owl, Hermione."  
  
She nodded, then they slipped into silence again. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, then suddenly, a sharp voice broke the quiet.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
Hermione stood up and spun around, her hair flying. Harry jumped to his feet as well, looking awkwardly in the direction Hermione was looking for the source of the voice.  
  
"It's my mum!" Said Hermione, and she grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him down the street to a woman who Harry never would have guessed was his friend's mother.  
  
Mrs. Granger looked quite unlike her daughter. Instead of the older version of Hermione Harry had been expecting, he was met by a strikingly pretty, sophisticated looking woman with soft, dark blonde curls. In fact, Hermione and her mother looked so different that Harry was beginning to get the feeling that Hermione must be adopted until he noticed that they both had the same sharp, light brown eyes.  
  
"Mum," said Hermione, letting go of Harry's wrist. "This is my friend, Harry Potter..."  
  
After Harry had been introduced, Mrs. Granger said, "I'm sorry to break you two apart so soon, but I really must be taking Hermione home now. We need to get ready for a dinner party."  
  
"Can I just say goodbye, Mum?" Hermione asked, and Mrs. Granger nodded. Once again Hermione took Harry's wrist and pulled him a good few feet away from her mother.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at her, grinning. "Dinner party?"  
  
She waved an impatient hand. "It's nothing, just something for my mum and dad's job. But listen, Harry," her voice turned serious. "We still haven't decided what to do about, well, you know..." She glanced back at where her mother stood. "You know, Snuffles."  
  
A thought had suddenly occurred to Harry. Speaking quickly he asked, "Hermione, where do you live?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just tell me where you live, Hermione! It's not that hard to understand!"  
  
Suddenly, "Hermione!" Mrs. Granger called. "We have to go!"  
  
"Just-just one second!" Hermione called back, before turning to Harry. "Harry, I don't see why--"  
  
Harry cut her off. Hermione had to leave, there wasn't much time... "Hermione, listen, we have to get to St. Mungo's, right?"  
  
"Right..." She said hesitantly, obviously very confused and bewildered.  
  
"Right. So we are going to St. Mungo's."  
  
"Oh!" Hermione cried, suddenly understanding, her eyes growing very wide.  
  
Grinning, Harry said, "Now that you've proven yourself capable of understanding me, Hermione, will you please tell me, where do you live?"  
  
"At 4515 Irwin Avenue," She said in a hurried whisper. "In Gloucester. But Harry, I don't know exactly what you want--"  
  
"Come on, Hermione!" Said Mrs. Granger, beginning to get impatient. "We have to go!"  
  
"I'll see you," Harry whispered, and pushed Hermione-who was looking very worrie--toward her mother.  
  
Fifteen minutes after Hermione had left, Harry was walking back to Privet Drive with the Dursley's grocery bags under his arms, his mind racing.  
  
He knew what he had to do.  
  
  
  
A/N: Gloucester is a real town not too far from London. I haven't the slightest clue if there is a "Irwin Avenue" there, being that I never went to England-I just made it up. Also, to those who don't know, Southampton is a city in south England that is an important port to the English Channel, I think it is? Wow my reviews rock, I love all of you! I'm relly flattered! Sigh another short chapter your all going to kill me...I'm trying to make them longer, one of them is six pages...  
  
PadfootProngs: Haha I see that there are two of you...thank you!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Don't worry, Sirius is one of my favorite characeters, I'm not going to do anything incredibly horrible to him.  
  
Anonymous: Thanks...you'll find out more about Sirius's condition in later chapters.  
  
Wellduh... :You're thoughts, too? Hmmm...I did leave it on a pretty bad cliffhanger this time, didn't I?  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Does it really kick ass? That's the most unique compliment I've gotten so far...wow this is cool!  
  
Lily Potter: Hey I read one of your stories, I don't remember which one, but I recognize your pen name...little cartoon Harry? That's certainly unusual! Haha...but whatever floats your boat...pirate Harry? That's funny, I just played a pirate/mate type person in a show, like a few days ago. Okay that was really randomn...Yeah, Sirius rocks, doesn't he? I don't life Fudge very much either...I used to think that he was pretty decent until I read the end of the fourth book-yikes! That guy needs a reality check!  
  
Abby: Your going to hunt me down? I better watch myself, I get hyper too and I know what hyper people are capable of...lol thank you very much. Don't worry, no pressure! ::runs and hides in corner and away from Abby:: :) 


	5. Of More Unwelcome News and Unpolished Pl...

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
  
Chapter Six: Of More Unwelcome News and Unpolished Plans  
  
  
  
  
Hedwig returned to Privet Drive right after the Dursleys started eating dinner. During the meal, Harry knew that he had to eat something, but he wasn't hungry. He was too nervous about what he was going to do tonight. Picking at his food, he sat in silence while Uncle Vernon talked about how he fired two of his employees.  
  
"...and then I just fired them, just like that!" He finished, and sighing contently, he sat up a little straighter in his seat, popping a boiled potato in his mouth. "I love being in charge." Aunt Petunia smiled at him.  
  
I bet you do, Harry thought wryly, but he didn't say anything. He knew better then to say something bad about Uncle Vernon, especially when it concerned his job, which Harry sometimes thought he loved more then Aunt Petunia and Dudley.  
  
Lost in his jumbled thoughts, Harry was unaware when both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia started to stare at him.  
  
"Boy!" Uncle Vernon barked. Harry looked up in surprise. "Why aren't you eating?"  
  
Wondering why on Earth Uncle Vernon cared, Harry said sarcastically, "One usually does not eat when one is not hungry."  
  
"Well, then," Uncle Vernon sneered. "If you're not hungry then you will give your food to Dudley." Harry obliged without comment. Uncle Vernon stared at him. He seemed to be trying to think of a good insult.  
  
"What, your weirdo friends haven't written to you this summer? You haven't heard from your precious godfather?" Uncle Vernon said sarcastically.  
  
Harry's blood boiled. He really wasn't in a good enough mood to take Uncle Vernon's remarks lying down. He felt confused-part of his mind was worrying about Hermione and what they were going to do-not to mention worrying about Sirius's safety, and the other part was beginning to get very angry with Uncle Vernon.  
  
"As a matter of fact," Harry replied coolly. "I just got a letter from Sirius, and he wants to know how you're treating me. What should I tell him?"  
  
Harry basked in the look of utter horror and the beginnings of fear on his uncle's face. Harry knew that the Dursleys didn't want to treat him as good as they could be treating him, and they also knew what Sirius was capable of if Harry did indeed tell him how they were treating him.  
  
"Tell him," squeaked Aunt Petunia, who had been listening to the conversation. "Tell him that were treating you just fine. And," she glared at her husband. "That absolutely no negative words were said about your...er...unique way of living."  
  
Harry snorted into his plate of food, and watched as Aunt Petunia gave Dudley a nervous side glance. Every time the Dursley family has come in contact with wizards, it had rebounded on Dudley: The first time, Harry's cousin had gotten a pig's tail. The second time, he had come out of the experience with a tongue that could be measured in feet.  
  
For the rest of the meal, nothing more involving Harry was said.  
  
After dinner, Harry sat in the living room, fiddling with the frayed hem of Dudley's old shirt that he was wearing, as Dudley ate a bag of potato chips and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon watched the news on T.V. Soon enough, Harry found himself gazing out of the window, thinking of nothing in particular, when the words of one of the newscasters jerked him out of his trance like state and caught him completely by surprise.  
  
"Yeah, Dave, weird things are definitely happening all across the country. First those explosions in Southampton, and now outside of Liverpool-"  
  
Liverpool? Harry stared at the television at this startling bit of news. Explosions outside of Liverpool?  
  
"-except that this explosion was massive, incredible, instead of just a series of small explosions in Southampton."  
  
"Yes," Dave the newscaster agreed. "And this time, it was very lucky that the explosion was out in the countryside, where it wasn't incredibly populated, but still, twelve people were killed. This is horrible..."   
  
Suddenly, Aunt Petunia reached over and turned off the T.V., probably to keep Dudley from hearing about what was happening. Dudley, however, wasn't paying any attention-he was busying himself with picking the crums off the bottom of the potato chip bag-but Harry knew better than to turn the T.V. back on. He felt slightly sick. Twelve people? Twelve people? It seemed like Voldemort was making attacks all over Britain, and the Muggles have no idea what was going on, and more people were dying...  
  
Harry realized that without knowing it he was giving a description of Voldemort's reign of power, quite like the description Sirius had given him back at the cave in Hogsmeade, when he had described Voldemort's power thirteen years before. This is what it must have been like...Harry thought. This was what Sirius was talking about...  
  
Harry felt yet another surge of anger toward Cornelius Fudge. He's still in denial...he won't admit this is Voldemort, it's all up to other Ministry members and Dumbledore now...  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
For a long time he had watched the news report, Harry sat up in his room, watching Hedwig flutter around in her cage, hooting softly. He tried to focus on what he was going to do tonight, and not what he had heard on the T.V., to pick the bugs out of his plan.  
  
Harry still wasn't sure whether he was just going to say to the Dursleys, 'I'm going to my friend's house," or if he was going to sneak out while they were asleep. For he knew what he had to do: He was going to Hermione's, and from there he was going to St. Mungo's. He decided to tell them straight out what he was going to do. It seemed easier then sneaking around in the Invisibility Cloak Harry had inherited from his father, and there was a smaller chance of getting in trouble when he returned.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. The plan sounded perfect as the fading evening light shined through his window, but a voice in the back of his head couldn't help but remind Harry that there has probably never been another plan in existence where so many things could go wrong.  
  
What if the Dursleys wouldn't let him go? And likewise, what if he didn't tell the Dursleys and woke them up when trying to sneak out? What if he somehow couldn't get on the Knight Bus? What if Hermione's parents wouldn't let her go? What if they couldn't get to St. Mungo's? What if he couldn't see Sirius?  
There were too many "what ifs."  
  
To occupy himself, Harry dug his History of Magic homework out of his trunk and started to write an essay on the similarities and differences between the Salem Witch Trials of the Dark Ages in England and the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 in the United States.  
  
It was going to be a very long night.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
Harry judged it was about time to drop the bomb on the Dursleys heads at 9:00 that evening. The Knight Bus would surely be out by now, and his relatives were always in a relatively good mood during this time of the day.  
  
Having sent Hedwig off to wait for him at Hermione's, Harry was careful not to make a lot of noise as he brought her cage and his trunk down the steps. Wishing dearly that he could perform a levitating charm to keep his trunk from making distinctive thump, thump, thumps as he banged his way down the stairs, by the time Harry had reached the first floor of the house there was silence in the living room where the Dursleys were. Wincing slightly at a final thump, Harry left his trunk and cage at the foot of the stairs, near his old cupboard, and entered the living room.  
  
As soon as he passed through the threshold into the living room, he found three pairs of eyes staring at him. Uncle Vernon had his eyes raised over his newspaper, Aunt Petunia had lowered her house decorating magazine to her lap and was staring at Harry as well, and Dudley seemed to have paused with a chocolate chip cookie halfway to his mouth, his lips parted slightly as he prepared to eat. Harry grinned at the three of them sheepishly. He was about to talk, but Uncle Vernon opened his mouth first.  
  
"Boy," he said slowly. "What, in the name of God, are you doing?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and said, "I'm going to my friend's house." He chewed his lip, waiting for a reaction from the Dursleys. When the only reaction he saw was Dudley dropping his cookie in surprise, his mouth still hanging open, Harry turned to leave, but then he heard Aunt Petunia's voice.  
  
"You're going where?"  
  
"To my friend's house," Harry repeated firmly. "And I may not be coming back anytime soon...so I'll see you next summer." Or not, Harry thought wistfully, but he kept his mouth shut. Turning his back on the gaping Dursleys, he took his trunk and Hedwig's cage in one hand, and used the other hand to turn the doorknob of the front door of Number Four, Privet Drive. Careful to be as silent as possible, he slipped out into the night.  
  
Outside in Little Whinging, Harry quickly made his way away from Privet Drive, surprised at how little trouble the Dursleys had given him. He had expected his exit to be a lot more difficult then it actually was, and he gave a small smile as he recalled the looks on his relatives' faces as he simply walked out of the house. For all he knew, the Dursleys could still be sitting in the same positions they were in as he left the house, and they could still be staring at the door.  
  
Shaking these thoughts out of his head and trying to focus on the task at hand, Harry realized with a start that he had unconsciously wandered to Magnolia Crescent-the same place he had been in the last time he had boarded the Knight Bus, and the place where he had first seen Sirius.  
  
Harry's eyes traveled across the street, finally resting on the exact spot where a black dog had appeared to him out of the dark, two years ago.  
  
Has it only been two years? Harry thought, slightly amazed. The time in which he had known of Sirius's existence now seemed longer-and the time that he had known that Sirius was innocent...only a year? Was that it? Once again the familiar pang of worry for his godfather pierced Harry's heart. Struggling to ignore it and remembering what he had to do, Harry stuck his wand out into the street, giving a silent call for the Knight Bus.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Another short chapter-I'm a dead girl, aren't I? I wrote this chapter a while ago, and I don't know how good it is. I haven't reread it before posting this...  
  
Is it just me, or did I get an unusually smaller amount of reviews for this chapter? Where's wellduh..., and Yuffie-Girl, and neutral, and Abby, and Lily Potter, huh? Hmmm...Oh yeah, people, you know the little button that says "Click Here to Submit Review"? Yeah, right, that...unless I am greatly mistaken it's not just there for decoration. If it IS just there for decoration, these FanFiction.Net people need to hire Martha Stewart, cause they need some serious decorating tips... :)  
  
Celestial princess: Hey Dena! Yeah, I haven't gotten around to review your story yet, but I will, I promise! "Over the Misty Mountains..." right we really need to get over that, don't we? :)  
  
Anonymous: Hehe let's get together pour a bucket of ice cold water of Fudge's head...hehe...he's in this story too, but won't appear until a bit later. Invictus really is a great poem isn't it? It does sum up Sirius, and Harry too, I think...grr I'd post it but I need to find my mom's peotry book that has it in it...  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Your wish is my command... 


	6. Hidden Feelings

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
  
Chapter Six-Hidden Feelings  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The night that Harry spent on the Knight Bus was one of the worst nights Harry could ever remember having, even worse then the night before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament-when he hadn't known how he was going to perform the task. The night seemed to drag on and on and on and on...at one point, the night just seemed to be so long that Harry was beginning to become quite sure that time must have magically slowed down by some unknown force that wanted to torture him.  
  
Fear, worry, and nervousness clouded his thoughts as Harry desperately tried to sleep on the bumping, swaying, and rolling bus. Harry hadn't bothered to pay for hot chocolate, he was pretty sure he might throw up anything he tried to eat or drink, especially something as thick as cocoa.   
  
Besides worrying profusely about Sirius, he was also thinking about what he had heard on the news back at the Dursleys. Attack at Southapton, attack at Liverpool...that made two Voldemort attacks since the start of the summer, and it was only the morning of July 15th...Harry felt slightly sick at the thought of how many more attacks there could be before Harry's birthday on July 31st. Once again, Harry thought that there were large similarities between what was happening now and what happened back before Voldemort's downfall, except that this time the Minister of Magic himself was in denial, and it was all other people could do to try and stop Voldemort from rising to become more powerful than he already was-but without the Minister, they could hardly do much. Harry made a soft noise of frustration in the back of his throat. Why couldn't Fudge just wake up and smell the coffee?  
  
Harry tried to relax by reminding himself what Hagrid had said at the end of last term-that he wasn't going to be too worried as long as Dumbledore's around, that he would do his best to take care of things. Dumledore...the thought gave Harry some small comfort.  
  
The constant rambling of the Knight Bus's conductor, Stan Shunpike, didn't help Harry sleep in the least. He talked for what seemed like forever about how skilled the Ministry was at catching dark wizards, about great it was that Black was going back to Azkaban, and about how, if the Death Eaters are going to succeed, they should really be more careful in concealing themselves. Harry didn't even try and explain everything to him-he sounded too opinionated and Harry was too nervous and tired to bother. He hoped, though, that if he played his cards right, the whole magical world would know the truth about Sirius's innocence soon enough.  
  
When he finally arrived at Hermione's the next morning, Harry felt dizzy and slightly nauseous as he stood on level ground for the first time in hours. The Knight Bus's constant swaying motion had given him a small case of seasickness. After saying goodbye to Stan Shunpike and rubbing his head wearily, Harry looked around and thought he must have given Stan the wrong address. But, no, the sign in front of the house read "4515 Irwin Avenue. Granger." It was the right address. Harry stared.  
  
Instead of the average-sized, suburban home Harry had been expecting, in front of him was a house that could only be described in one word-enormous. Although not quite the size of a full-out mansion, Harry found himself looking up at the huge house with his mouth hanging open slightly, dimly noting how large the front lawn was, and how many windows the house had.  
  
His shocked thoughts were interrupted by a voice breaking through the silence.  
  
"Harry! Oh, Harry!"  
  
It was Hermione. She came running out the enormous house, her hair flying behind her, and came over to where Harry stood, still staring, on the sidewalk. When she reached him, she began talking very fast.  
  
"Harry, listen, I talked to my parents, they said that I can go with you to St. Mungo's, that's cleared up. We can find Sirius as soon as possible, and probably Professor Dumbledore will be there, too. Maybe we can convince Cornelius Fudge into giving Sirius a trial! Oh, I hope so...oh, I forgot to tell you! Hedwig arrived with a letter from you-you must have sent that before we saw each other, huh? Why don't you come in and have some breakfast? We can talk about how we're going to about with...uh...things. Don't worry, my mum and dad won't bother us-they don't really understand all this magical stuff anyway."  
  
She stopped to take a breath, and looked curiously at Harry, who had slowly moved his gaze away from the house and was now staring at Hermione.  
  
"Oh, so you like my house?" She asked, raising her eyebrow slightly.  
  
"I...uh..." Harry suddenly found himself at a loss for words. "I...er...didn't realize it was so...um...big."  
  
Hermione heaved an enormous sigh, as if she was quite used to his reaction. Picking up Hedwig's cage, she grabbed Harry's arm-who found that he only had enough time to grab his turnk before she pulled him into her house.  
  
By the time he entered the Granger's house, the initial shock of seeing that one of his best friend's lived in a house that could fit about four of the houses on Privet Drive in it had passed, but was soon reawakened as glanced around. Harry's jaw, which had finally closed, now dropped to it's full potential.  
  
He found himself in a living room that could be compared to the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts. There were couches and large armchairs everywhere, three polished wooden coffee tables, shelves that held a large assortment of fragile and expensive objects, and a huge fireplace with a photograph above it the size of the Fat Lady's portrait-a photograph showing Hermione at about the same age she was when she entered Hogwarts with her parents. Hermione, shaking her head and making tutting noises at his reaction, although visibly amused, kept her grip on his arm and steered him out of the living room.  
  
Hermione's hand on his arm the whole time, Harry was unable to close his gaping mouth as she led him through the second largest kitchen he had ever seen (the largest was the kitchen at Hogwarts) and into an equally large dining room where Hermione dumped Hedwig's cage in a corner, and motioned for Harry to do the same with his trunk.  
  
"Wait here, I'll get us some breakfast," Hermione said, disappearing into the kitchen. Ignoring what she said, Harry followed.  
  
In the kitchen, Hermione was bent low as she rummaged through the refrigerator. When she emerged a moment later with a carton of orange juice, she looked at Harry as she put the carton on the counter.  
  
"So, this is how the other half lives," Harry muttered, staring around the kitchen that looked about the size of three times the Dursley's living room.   
  
Hermione leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms, a small smile appearing on her face, which Harry could see that she was trying to conceal. "Harry, you act as though this is the Palace of Versailles."  
  
"Actually," Harry said, grinning at her. "I think Buckingham Palace would be a better comparison, since the royal family still lives there. The Palace of Versailles is just a museum, isn't it?"  
  
Hermione was no longer trying to not smile, and grinned back. "Yes, it is. I went there when I went to France."  
  
There was a silence in which Harry awkwardly asked, "Um, Hermione, how come you never told me you were so...er...so..."  
  
"Rich?" She suggested quietly, with somewhat of an exasperated look on her face.  
  
"Uh, yeah...what you said. Rich, right. Rich."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Harry, all my life before I came to Hogwarts I went to the same school. Not some special school that half the kids in the country need a scholarship for, but just an average grade school. When I was little, I would tell my friends about my home and my life, and it would be so different from their homes and their lives, and we were so young that they didn't understand and thought I was weird. So when I got older I just didn't give people I was becoming friends with much information about my life, and also I was, you know, well..."  
  
"A know-it-all?" Said Harry. Under normal circumstances he would have grinned at the description, but he didn't feel that this was the right time to smile.  
  
However, Hermione did. "That's one way of putting it...so as a result, I never really made many friends. When I came to Hogwarts, and after our troll incident-" Harry grinned. "-I became friends with you and Ron, and this-"she gestured her arm vaguely around the kitchen. "-just never came up, and Ron, you know, is touchy about these things."  
  
Harry was silent. I should have realized it before, he thought suddenly. Her parents are dentists...dentists make a lot of money...she never really did tell much about herself in first year... It was a little scary to Harry about how little he really knew about the life of one of his best friends.  
  
His brain was buzzing. His mind was dealing with too many things at the moment: This new information about Hermione...Voldemort...and, his stomach lurched-Sirius...he felt as if his head was going to explode.  
  
Hermione seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking, when she said, "Harry, you are not going anywhere until you eat something." She stopped and shook her head. "I sound like I'm your mother..."  
  
Harry laughed and was in much higher spirits as he began to help Hermione make breakfast.  
  
  
  
  
A/N: A note on the last chapter-I originally posted it, then I went back and added a new scene and posted that version...so if anyone didn't understand some things that Harry was thinking about when he was on the Knight Bus it's probably because you read the original chapter, before I reposted it with the new scene. Go back, read it, and then hopefully everything will make sense!  
  
Yeah, sorry, I shouldn't have posted that whole thing...but I first posted the original version, then I got an idea and went back and changed it...sorry if it confused anyone!  
  
Lily of the Valley: Yeah I like that line too! The whole bird thing was supposed a meatphor to their hair colors-I wasn't sure of anyone would get it, and I'm glad you did...Thanks a lot! Really? Is the Goddess in author here? I'll check her out...  
  
Abby: It's okay, I know exactly what it's like to come home exshausted from a practice or rehearsal or something. It's in the nineties here too (actually, I think that is spelled right) and we just had an enormous thunderstorm...Right, being hyper is very randdomn, it's only a matter of time...  
I have an adoring fan? Oh my gosh that is so cool! Wow! Thanks a lot!  
  
Lily Potter: Lol yeah, I thought that part would be funny if I had Dudley eating cookies and stuff... 


	7. Redheads at 4515 Irwin Avenue

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Do I really look all that much like JK Rowling? 2) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story?  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
Chapter Seven-Redheads At 4515 Irwin Avenue  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry ate breakfast with Hermione. Every once in a while her parents would drop by, asking lots of questions about St. Mungo's and what they were going to do. Hermione purposely didn't give her parents the whole story-partly because they knew Sirius to be a murderer, and also because they most likely wouldn't understand a word of what Hermione was saying if she told them everything. However, Hermione seemed to know a great deal about St. Mungo's, having presumably read about it in some book or other. Harry, who once again felt annoyed that he hadn't grown up knowing the information Hermione was telling her parents about magical healing, listened with interest as she put on her lecture voice and began telling them about the different ways a mediwizard could heal a broken leg.  
  
Soon enough, however, Harry's mind began to wander as Hermione's talks about broken bones became dull. He wondered if Sirius had any broken bones, but then he remembered that the Daily Prophet article had said that he had a head injury and a sprained arm. Sprained arms, Harry knew, could be healed, but he couldn't help wondering about how serious Sirius's head injury was. Then a thought occurred to Harry with a jolt, and he dropped the fork he had been using to spear a sausage with in surprise.  
  
Was Sirius conscious?  
  
The question pierced through his mind like a knife through butter as Harry suddenly realized that he didn't have the slightest idea to what the answer was. Was Sirius awake and wondering what was going to happen to him, or was he unconscious without a clue to what was going on? Roughly two million different thoughts were getting jumbled around Harry's head, but he pushed the majority of them away and looked at Hermione. Dimly, he noticed that her parents had left the room and she was looking at him looking at her in surprise.  
  
"Harry? What-"  
  
"Hermione," he whispered, and the tone of his voice stopped her from continuing to speak. "Hermione, we've got to get to St. Mungo's. Now."  
  
"Well, of course we do, Harry," she said gently. "But first we need to go to the Weasleys-"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The Weasleys, Harry! We need to go there and get to St. Mungo's using the Ministry car-"  
  
"Hermione, what-"  
  
"-Mr. Weasley will be able to get them for us, so we will be able to get into the hospital-"  
  
"Hermione, will you tell me exactly what are you talking about?"  
  
Hermione looked at him in surprise. "Well, Harry, how did you think we were going to get to St. Mungo's? I already wrote to Ron, and he and Mrs. Weasley told Mr. Weasley about Sirius's innocence. They are going to get here by Floo Powder in-" She looked at her watch. "-ten minutes. We are going to go to the Burrow, and Mr. Weasley is going to use a Ministry car he borrowed to bring us to the hospital. He's going to try and use his position at the Ministry to try to get to talk with Prufessor Dumbledore and Fudge."  
  
Harry stared at her. "When did this happen?"  
  
"After we saw each other yesterday."  
  
"You and Ron were able to write to each other that fast?" Asked Harry, who's head was so full he thought it might burst.  
  
"Well...he called me on a...hmm..." She grinned, but closed her mouth, looking expantantly at him.   
  
Harry suddenly understood. "Ron tried to call you on a telephone, didn't he?"  
  
"Well, no." Her grin grew wider. "He called me on a fellytone."  
  
Harry laughed, his spirits rising again as he grinned at Hermione (who looked positively delighted to see him smile) and asked a new question.  
  
"And, why did you not tell me this was what you were going to do, instead of leaving me hanging?"  
  
Hermione turned slightly pink. "Well, I just kind of assumed that you would figure it out-I mean, how else would we get there? St. Mungo's doesn't have one specific fireplace for people using Floo Powder to get there, and we can't Apparate, so I thought that you would understand, I mean, it's pretty obvious-"  
  
"I get it, Hermione."  
  
There was another period of silence as Harry and Hermione finished their breakfast, Harry feeling much better then he could remember feeling in the past couple of days-because there was a solid (well, hopefully solid) plan to see Sirius. They had only just finished eating a few minutes later and were setting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink when there was the distinctive sound of yells coming from somewhere in another part of the house.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione cried, her mouth very wide and her eyebrows very high as her eyes flew to the watch on her wrist. "It's time!" She turned and ran from the kitchen, Harry on her heels.  
  
It was very hard for Harry to run right behind Hermione as he followed her through her enormous house, because as she was running in front of him her hair flew off her shoulders and he soon found a large quantity of bushy, curly brown hair in his eyes as he ran. More than once Harry found himself tripping over a small table or chair as he stumbled along behind Hermione. He was feeling very clumsy indeed by the time they had reached the Grangers' living room. Hermione stopped short as they reached the threshold, and Harry immediately bumped into her. Feeling a little annoyed, he edged around Hermione (whom, Harry noticed, he was now the same height as-he had always been slightly shorter then her) so that he could see the room, and found himself to be greeted by one of the strangest sights he had ever seen.  
  
Ron and Ginny Weasley were lying on an overturned couch on Hermione's living room floor, covered from head to toe in soot from the fireplace. They both stared up at Harry and Hermione, and Harry was under the impression that they were too surprised to find themselves in the position they were in to say anything. In the corner of the room, Hermione's parents stood, staring at the scene in a mixture of shock, horror and confusion.   
  
From what Harry gathered as he stood in the doorway, fighting back a laugh at the sight of his two friends, apparently one of the many couches in the Granger's living room had been leaning with its back against the fireplace. Now, the fireplace being the location where the Weasleys were arriving, a problemn arose. From what the scene before him told, in Harry's mind it looked as if the fireplace had not been boarded up, and the only blocking in front of it was the couch. Ron and Ginny, it looked like, had come into the Grangers' firepalce with such force that as they rammed into the back of the couch, flipping it over and bringing themselves flying in it along with it.  
  
"Well, hello, Ron. Ginny," said Harry, trying very hard to keep a straight face. "Long time, no see." The corners of his mouth twitched dangerously, but he quickly recovered himself and returned the very solemn gaze that Ron was giving him as he stood, absentmindedly brushing soot off of his arms and front. Staring at Harry, he seemed to see that Harry was trying not to look amused, and he scowled, turning his gaze on to Hermione.  
  
After staring at Ron for a monent, Hermione slowly began to speak.   
  
"Dad..." She took a deep breath. "Dad. I thought you said you were going to move the couch this morning."  
  
Hermione's father, who looked as anyone would feel if two teenage wizards had just fallen out of their fireplace and mutilated their living room, said, "I thought you meant..." He gulped, still staring at Ron and Ginny. "...after you're friends arrived."  
  
Ginny giggled. Unlike Ron, she seemed to see the humor in the situation. She stood up, and after brushing off the black soot that was strikingly visible against her red hair, she caught Harry's eye and grinned. Harry, forgetting that he was pretending to be solemn, grinned as well.  
  
Ron sighed. "Right. Well. We better get back...or Mum will send ole someone after us...where's your trunk, Harry?"  
  
"In Hermione's dining room," said Harry vaguely, still watching carefully watching Ginny, suddenly noticing how much she had changed since he had last seen her, which had only been a few weeks ago.  
Ron, who didn't seem to notice Harry watching his sister, frowned and said, "Which is...where, exactly?"  
  
"Come on," Hermione said, motioning for Ron to follow her. She glanced at Harry, as if telling him to come with her too-but Harry, who was still looking at Ginny out of the corner of his eye, didn't notice. Shaking her head slightly, she began to leave the living room with Ron at her heels. After a moment, Mrs. Granger hurried after them, calling after them whether they wanted tea or not. Mr. Granger quickly walked out after her, muttering something about helping her find the tea kettle, which left Harry and Ginny quite alone.  
  
"So, uh, how's it going?" Ginny asked Harry. "Some place Hermione's got here, huh?" She gazed around the room with her eyebrows high on her forehead, then turned to Harry again and grinning. "Who knew?"  
  
Harry was only half listening to her. Well. He was musing. She certainly has grown up. She is not a little girl anymore. She's actually quite...pretty  
.  
Harry couldn't believe he was thinking this about Ginny. Ginny! Was this the same Ginny who used to blush everytime he smiled at her? The same Ginny who was so shy she hardly spoke to him whenever he stayed at the Burrow? The same Ginny he had known and considered himself to be friends with for almost four years, but never really known...  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Ginny's voice only half registered into Harry's brain, and he looked up to find her watching him curiously.  
  
"Hmmm?" Harry said absentmindedly, still half immersed in his thoughts.  
  
"I said, I hope everything turns out okay with Sirius," She said, raising an eyebrow. "I really do hope that he's alright."  
  
Harry was fully into the conversation now. "You-wait-what? You know about Sirius?"  
  
"Of course I do," Ginny said, a note of surprise in her voice. "Well, after Mum found out at the end of last term, she told Dad, and then they and Ron told our whole family." She shook her head. "I still can't believe that after all these years, something I've always been told that is true turned out to be wrong. No, I mean, I believe he's innocent!" She added quickly, seeing the look on Harry's face. "It's just...weird. Sort of hard to wrap my mind around, you know? It's also hard to comprehend what actually happened to him. It's horrible that the Ministry never gave him a trial, and that he's been wrongly accused of murder for fourteen years." She shuddered. "I can't believe that the Ministry ever let this happen...it's incredible." After a moment she murmered, more to herself than Harry, it seemed, "Poor Sirius."  
  
There was a short silence in which Harry found himself wondering what on Earth was taking Ron and Hermione so long. Sure, Hermione had a big house, but it shouldn't take too long to go to the dining room and back. Ginny was apparently thinking the same thing, because she nodded at the doorway in which Ron and Hermione had left the living room, looking at Harry questioningly. But before either of them could say anything, there was the sound of Hermione's voice, and she and Ron turned the corner and into the living room. Hermione was looking slightly flustered, and Ron slightly pink in the face as they joined Harry and Ginny. Ron, Harry noticed, was staring around the Granger's home much in the same way that Harry had when he had first arrived, but was obviously trying in vain to hide his surprise and amazement.  
  
"Well," Harry said quickly, all of his previous thoughts about Ginny abandoning his mind as thoughts concerning Sirius and St. Mungo's threatened to overflow from his head. "Let's get a move on. I want to get to the hospital as soon as possible."  
  
"Right," said Ron, who was still looking somewhat dazed after his short journey through Hermione's house. Shaking his head slightly, he reached his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a handfull of emerald green powder. Floo Powder.  
  
Harry felt a burst of excitement. Finally...finally! Harry was finally going to St. Mungo's!  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh, yes-the plot thickens...the teeniest bit of romance here, eh? There probably won't be too much romance though, just a little because I want to focus more on other things that are going on...I just thought that a little romance might make things a little more interesting, and add onto the already large amount of story threads throughout this one, larger story. This is where a lot of stuff starts to happen, and things begin to get more complicated...now you guys know why I wrote that in the summary, huh?   
Now the chapters are beginning to get a bit longer, methinks. :) I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I can tell you that much! Hehe just picturing Ron and Ginny like that made me laugh...hehe...  
Oh, I'm happy that none of you seem to think that that whole Hermione-being-rich-thingy wasn't too far fetched-like a lot of the things in this story, that idea just popped out of no where and appeared on the screen...  
  
RedRoseAngel: Oh hi a new reviewer! A lot of people think that Harry and Hermione should hook up, but I personally can't see that...lol sorry! There probably won't be too much romance here though, and at this point I doubt that there will be Ron/Hermiobne at all, and if there is it won't be till later-and nothing too serious, I want to focus on other stuff-it would just be there for good measure :) and to make things more interesting. I don't even know if it'll be there, though, so...  
I'm really glad that you like my story a lot, even if you don't agree with some of the pairings!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112:Hehe I have been prolonging their trip to St. Mungo's a long time, haven't I? Hehe...  
  
Abby: Not practices, really-rehearsals. I was recently in a show, and my director worked us hard...it was soooo much fun, but really tiring! No! Don't die just yet!  
It really is a very stupid rule isn't it? Grr...they should change it, it really doesn't matter.  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Hey! You're back! Where ya been? Yeah, the Hermione rich thing does kinda make sense, I like it...don't worry, St. Mungo's isn't too far off!  
  
Wellduh... :Don't worry, it's alright. I thought the whole Hermione rich thing was a good idea...dentists, like doctors, get paid an awful lot-in the U.S., at least, I'm assuming Britain as well.  
  
Lily of the Valley: You think I write like JKR? Wow that is so cool!!! Are we really that similar? Lol, I don't write complete sentences either...I'm glad you liked that, I thought it was kinda interesting. Symbols and metaphors rock! 


	8. Traveling by Floo Powder and Traveling t...

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? and 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight: Traveling by Floo Powder and Traveling to St. Mungo's  
  
  
  
  
  
As Harry took the Floo Powder from Ron, he noticed that his heart was thumping in his chest. He was going on his way to seeing Sirius...he was on his way to seeing Sirius...  
  
After thanking and saying goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Granger-who both stood in the living room with an untouched kettle of tea-Harry tossed the Floo Powder into the roaring fire that the Grangers had started up in their fireplace. Stepping into it, he shouted, "The Burrow!", and closed his eyes for the ride.  
  
Harry didn't particulary like traveling by Floo Powder, because the swirling fireplaces that flashed past him during his journey often made him dizzy and naueseous. As Harry spun and spun through what he had begun referring to "Chimney-world", he yearningly wished that there was no law that said wizards under seventeen were not allowed to Apparate.  
  
Just as Harry was beginning to feel that if his ride through Chimney-world didn't end soon he might just throw up his breakfast, he found himself falling rather roughly out of a fireplace and into the Weasley's kitchen.  
  
Harry only had a glimpse of Fred and George Weasley sitting at the kitchen table, and Percy Weasley and his father, Arthur, leaning against the kitchen counter before there was a sort of muffled cry and Harry was soon wrapped in an enormous hug by Mrs. Weasley, in which his line of vision was cut off as his faced was pressed against her robes.  
  
Harry was too surprised to do anything but blink for a moment. There wasn't time for anything else, however, because quite suddenly something hard slammed into Harry's back with a surprised "Oof!" Dazed more by the suddenness of this event than the pain in his back, Harry stumbled out of the way (Mrs. Weasley had let go of him) and more or less fell into a chair at the kitchen table.  
  
What seemed to have just happened was Ron-still covered in soot from the Grangers' hearth--had fallen out of the fireplace and onto the stone hearth. Harry, who had been engulfed in the hug by Mrs. Weasley, had not moved from the hearth, and therefore Ron had slammed into him from behind.  
  
For a moment everyone in the kitchen stared at Ron where he lay on the floor rubbing his head. Then George said, "Aww...did ickle Ronniekins get hurt when he used the big, bad Floo Powder?"  
  
Ron glared at him and began to rise to a more diginified position. However, he had only gotten to his knees when another redhead covered in soot flew out of the fireplace and into Ron, knocking him onto the ground again. Ginny let out a shriek as she stumbled over her brother and crashed onto the floor-or rather, crashed onto Ron, who was lying on the floor once again. Ron let out a muffled "Argh!", hoisted himself out from under his sister and grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from the stone hearth. He was obviously anticipating Hermione's entrance through the fireplace, and he didn't seem to be in the mood to be knocked to the floor again. Ginny, looking very surprised indeed, allowed herself to be pulled away from the fireplace. Harry stared at them.  
  
"You two really aren't having much luck with traveling by Floo Powder today, aren't you?" He asked them wryly. Ron shook his head at Harry, muttering to himself.   
  
"What does he think he's doing, standing in front of the fireplace like that? And those blasted Muggles with their stupid couches and their stupid fireplaces that aren't registered with the Floo Network..."  
  
Ron's rambling was interrupted when Hermione walked, rather gracefully, out of the Weasley's fireplace.  
  
"Hello, everyone!" She said brightly. "So, when are we going to leave?" Then, when she spotted Ron looking very annoyed, she said, "What happened to you?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, nothing," Ron muttered. "Absolutely nothing. Everything's just wonderful, really, it is."  
  
Harry grinned, but then turned anxiously to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were both leaning against the kitchen counter. Both were visibly amused by the events by the fireplace, but they listened to Harry when he spoke to them.  
  
"Hermione's right-when are we going to leave?" In the back of his mind, Harry could hear a little voice saying Now, now, please let it be now!  
  
"Why, now, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Harry sympathetically as he breathed a sigh of relief. "We will leave right now. At this moment." After catching Harry's somewhat skeptical look-he knew how things worked in the Weasley household-she assured him, "No, we are leaving now. Everyone's ready, we just need to go and get into the Ministry cars." There was a pause. "Well, everyone, go out and get into the Ministry car!" She cried, annoyance obvious in her voice. "Go on, go!" There was a moment of confusion as everyone in the room-Mr. Weasley included-hurried to get out of the house on Mrs. Weasley's command. As Harry left the kitchen with everyone else, he could hear Mrs. Weasley behind him, muttering, "I do hope Sirius is alright."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
Harry had never known a car ride to be so long. Even the ride Harry had taken back before his first year when Uncle Vernon had tried vainly to get away from the letters inviting Harry to Hogwarts hadn't seemed as long as this one was.  
  
Although the Ministry car was magically bigger inside than it actually looked, Harry was soon feeling slightly claustrophobic and bored. He tried to engage himself in a conversation that Ron, Fred, and George were having about the Chudley Cannom's chances of getting into the Quidditch playoffs this year, but he found that Quidditch-normally one of his favorite subjects to talk about-was the farthest thing from his mind. For a few minutes he tried to sort out his confused thoughts about Ginny, while watching her talk with Hermione, but he couldn't keep his mind on her. For a minute Harry tried to listen to what Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were talking about, but realized soone enough that he wasn't very interested. Percy had changed departements in the Ministry-after the events last year that took place in the Crouch family-and was now in the Departement of Magical Law Enforcement. He was talking about how some wizard had tried to make a Chinese dragon bring light rain to Liverpool, and had resulted in causing there to be a full out hurricane.  
  
So Harry sat, staring out the window at the passing countryside that was quickly turning urban as they made their way to St. Mungo's hospital in London. The only real movement he made was to lean over and stick his fingers through Hedwig's cage to pet her every once in a while. He didn't say much for most of the car ride, either, but the only people who seemed to notice were Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. All three of them noticed when Ron tried to bring Harry into his, Fred's, and George's conversation.  
  
"So, Harry, how do you think the Chudley Cannons will do this year? D'you think they have a chance of getting into the playoffs?" Ron had asked him nonchalantly, obviously trying to bring him back to Earth and keep his mind off of what Ron knew his mind must be on: Sirius. Harry had turned to his friend and smiled a little, Hermione looking anxiously on.  
  
"I dunno, Ron, what do you think? They are your favorite team," Harry had responded vaguely, he didn't really feel like talking about Quidditch. That's a first.  
  
"Well, yeah, but--" Ron had begun somewhat uncomfortably, but Hermione had cut him off, nudging him with her elbow sharply into his rib, and shaking her head slightly after nodding in Harry's direction.  
  
"Oh, right," Ron had muttered, looking very uncomfortable now indeed. "Right...um...right."  
  
Harry had looked at Hermione gratefully. Mrs. Weasley, who had momentarily removed herself from her own conversation with Mr. Weasley and Percy, gave Harry a sort of sad, sympathetic smile, and reached over to give his knee a reassuring pat.  
  
That was the only interaction Harry made with anyone in the whole car ride.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
Their trip to London seemed to Harry as if it took forever, and he was very relieved when they finally arrived. Parking the Ministry car down a somewhat non populated street, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys all piled out of the small looking car. Two Muggles walking by stared as they all stepped out, whispering and pointing at them and the car. As they walked away, Mr. Weasley sighed.  
  
"Ah, Muggles," he smiled after the pair of them. "Bless their souls."  
  
George let out a snort. Mrs. Weasley glared at him, and he quickly turned back to the car, bowing and offering his hand to help Hermione out of her seat. "Watch yer step, m'lady," he said in a rather good imitation of a Cockney accent.  
  
Hermione grinned at George with her eyebrow raised, accepted his hand, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. "Oh!" She said, her eyes round as she looked around the street. "I know where we are!"  
  
Harry realized with a start that he knew where they were, too. They were near the Leaky Cauldron. Harry looked at Mr. Weasley warily, frowning slightly. Surely St. Mungo's wasn't somewhere in Diagon Alley? No, it couldn't be there-wouldn't he have known if it was? But Harry wasn't so sure, there were still-after nearly four years of living as a wizard-a lot of things Harry did not know about the magical world. He was bound to find out things along the way, however-from Ron, because he grew up in this world, and from Hermione. Although Hermione was Muggle born and had found out about magic and Hogwarts the same time Harry had, it seemed to him that everything Hermione knew about anything she had read about in a book somewhere. Harry was quite sure, in fact, that Hermione's primary source of knowledge was not by learning from firsthand experience, but that she gathered everything she knew from the Hogwart's library.  
  
Harry wasn't really in the mood to be getting lectured by Hermione about not reading enough, so he turned back to Mr. Weasley, and asked him quietly, "Mr. Weasley, exactly where is St. Mungo's?"  
  
Mr. Weasley seemed to know what he was thinking and why he was asking that particular question, because he smiled and said, "Harry, when the International Confederation of Wizards put a Ministry of Magic in every country for that country's magical population, they decided that most wizard places-shopping centers, hospitals, and the Ministry buildings themselves-would be put in the same neighborhood in that country's capital. So the Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's, and the Minstry of Magic are all in this section of London."  
  
"Oh. That's smart," Harry said. He hadn't known that, but...he glanced over at Hermione, who was talking to Ron. She surely had known. Hmmm, thought Harry. Maybe I ought to start listening to what she says more often, I might learn something.  
  
"Well, if everyone's ready, let's get a move on, then!" Mr. Weasley, clapping his hands. Then he turned and began to walk down the street, with Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys following him.  
  
They didn't have to walk very far, they had only gone a few blocks when Percy stopped walking and yelled, very importantly, "Were here! Over here, everyone! Right here, here's St. Mungo's!" Percy waved his hand in the directio, motioning that they should walk around a corner. Leading the way and holding his head high, he walked very quickly around the bend in the sidewalk and smiled triumphantly at what he saw before him. As Harry hurried to keep up with Percy's fast strides, he turned the corner and immediately bumped into Fred and George. Frowning, Harry moved to the side to get a clear view of the hospital, and his mouth dropped.  
  
Only six or so yards away from where they now stood was a building with the size and appearance of any Muggle hospital that one would find in London. However, there was something surrounding the building that someone wouldn't see in a normal hospital. For a moment Harry thought he was seeing the Northern Lights-the Aurora Borealis-reflecting off the building, but then he realized that it was the building itself that was giving off the partially green and partially lavender colored light that engulfed it on all sides. Harry stared for a moment, then looked around and saw that even Hermione looked mildly surprised. The Weasleys however, no doubtly having been here before, had continued to walk to the hospital, unpertubed the colored light. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other before running to catch up with the Weasleys.  
  
"Um," Harry said uncertainly, still staring at the hospital building as they approached it. "Can someone tell me what all that...er...light stuff is?"  
  
"It's healing light, dear," Said Mrs. Weasley, smiling at him.  
  
"Er..." Harry was still at a loss. "Healing light?"  
  
"Yes," Mrs. Weasley answered. "You should be taking Healing Magic this year at Hogwarts, but I guess I can give you a head start...healing light is the light given off when there is a lot of energy put into healing people by many wizards in one specific place. Healing light helps the people who need healing emotionally and mentally, and doesn't hurt-rather, helps-people who don't need any healing at all. It's..." She seemed to be searching for the right words. "Good for the soul."  
  
"Wow," Harry said. He liked the idea of this healing light, surrounding him and helping him...surrounding, helping, and healing Sirius...But then Harry had another question. "Is there any real reason why the color of the light is purple and green?"  
  
"Lavender and green," Hermione briskly corrected him, this time answering his question. "Green is the color for the general healing, and lavender the color for healing other people. I've read about the light surrounding magical hospitals, of course," she added, gazing thoughtfully at the building as they got closer. "But I've never seen it in person."  
  
There was silence as they finally reached St. Mungo's and passed into the aura of green and lavender light. Immediately Harry could feel his headache that had been steadily growing ever since he had woken up after his dream about Southampton slowly beginning to disappear. Suddenly, with a jolt Harry realized. The dream...  
  
He hadn't given his dream a thought since the morning he had it had woken him up. How was it possible that Harry had had a dream with events that really happened? Harry had had dreams before that had been of true events...but all those other dreams had involved Voldemort, and this dream hadn't...at least, he thought it hadn't...what was going on?  
  
Harry didn't have time to think about his dream anymore as they appraoched the door that led to the hospital. Mrs. Weasley gave his hand a reassuring squeeze-much like the way Sirius had done after the third task--and Harry smiled at her gratefully. This was really a wonderful thing for her and Mr. Weasley to do, to take him here with everyone...Harry felt truly grateful to have the Weasleys around, they had done so much for him...  
  
They had arrived at the door. All of the Weasleys and Hermione looked at Harry expectantly, as if telling him, "Go on, that a boy, you can do it, just open the door..." Even Percy wasn't barging through and announcing his presence to the first Ministry member he saw, but was watching Harry like everyone else.   
  
Well...Harry thought. It's now or never...  
  
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and entered St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, with Hermione and the Weasleys at his heels.  
  
  
  
A/N: Does this chapter seem a bit dragged out? Hmm...it seems like it's moving kind of slow...  
  
Sorry about that problem with chapter 7-there was something wrong when I posted it and it all came out in computer language. I didn't check to see that it was posted correctly when I posted it, and the only reason I knew that something was wrong and was able to fix it was because someone emailed me telling me that something was wrong...thanks, GoldenRose! Well, I fixed it, and it's all normal now.  
  
Keara Jordan: Oh hi! I love it when new people start reviewing...thank you very much! So you think I characterized everyone well? That's good, because I wasn't entirely sure I was doing that very well. My mom thinks that it's incredibly unrealistic that Harry and Ginny will ever end up together because Ginny is so shy and childish, but I really think that she's going to grow up at some point.  
  
Lily Potter: Wow you seem happy! Yeah, just a little Harry/Ginny, but like I said before, I'm not going to get too romantic in this story, at least not until later.  
  
Yuffie-Girl: I know, Harry seems a bit slow when it comes to her... :) I once read this interview with JK Rowling, and she didn't say "Harry" but she was mentioning another boy in the books who is being a utter dolt when it comes to girls. She said something along these lines, I don't remember exactly what she said: "There's nothing between Harry and Hermione, but there is something between Ron and Hermione-except Ron doesn't know it yet. Typical boy." Couldn't have said it better myself!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Hehe didn't I say I am the Queen of Procrastination? This isn't really procrastination, but oh well... 


	9. The Long Awaited Arrival

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? And 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine-The Long Awaited Arrival  
  
By...me!!!  
  
  
  
  
Harry found himself in an enormous, square room with mediwizards, patients of the hospital, and the patients' visitors roaming across it. All across the room there were stairways and corridors branching off of it, giving Harry the impression that this room wasn't only a lobby of some sort for the hospital, but was also the base of the building. Although the room was too small to cover the entire first floor of the building, it seemed to be covering a good deal of it. In the center of the room was a desk shaped like a circle with parchment, quills, and books covering it. Within the circular desk were two women and one man looking very annoyed and disorganized. As Mr. Weasley cut in front of Harry and began to lead them towards the desk; Harry stared around at the white walls, white floor, and white ceiling. Although Harry wished he could have three heads at once to see all the activity that was happening around him, one thing caught Harry's eyes.  
  
Although all sides of the room were white, it seemed like everything in the room...no, not everything in the room, but the air in the room...had the same lavender and green colored light that Harry had seen surrounding the building. Except here, the light wasn't as visible and glowing, more like a tinge of color, somewhat the same way it would look if there were two lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling giving the room the light. In fact, it seemed to Harry that the colored light inside the building was so subtle that you wouldn't really notice it unless this was someone's first time here and the light stood out to them, or if you were used to the light but were looking for it specifically.  
  
As they approached the desk, Harry heard the three people who stood at it talking very quickly to one another as they hurried across the desk. It looked to Harry like they were only shuffling papers and running around, and he once again noted that they seemed very disorganized.  
  
"With all this press surrounding Black, there are a million people here today-"  
  
"-We're swamped, completely swamped! There are too many darned people here, and with those Daily Prophet reporters floating around-"  
  
"You think the reporters are bad? The Minister of Magic himself is coming here at one o'clock!"  
  
"The Minister? Are you serious? Oh, Merlin, what are we going to do? We need help-"  
  
"Everyone's busy, their all covering the press, it's only us for today-"  
  
"Excuse me?" Mr. Weasley said hesitantly.  
  
"-And the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is coming, too-"  
  
"-Oh, no, not Colette Villons! None of the men work properly when she's around, they all watch her!"  
  
"Um, sir!" Mr. Weasley said loudly to the man, who had rather messy blonde hair and very large glasses. He looked around and jumped backwards slightly, alarmed, as he saw the large party Mr. Weasley and the large party he had in tow watching him.  
  
"Yes?" The man said, quickly recovering from his embarrassment.  
  
"My name is Arthur Weasley. My party and I are here to see Albus Dumbledore, could you please direct us to the room of Sirius Black?" Mr. Weasley asked politely.  
  
Harry looked at Mr. Weasley in surprise. Professor Dumbledore...what? Mr. Weasley, sensing Harry's questioning gaze, gave him a sort of reassuring look, nodding as if he knew what he was doing.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore hasn't arrived yet," the man said, squinting and peering at them all from over his glasses. Mr. Weasley looked at Mrs. Weasley in mild surprise.  
  
"Well then, could you tell us what the room number of Sirius Black is?" Mr. Weasley asked, turning back to the man, who was now looking very carefully at Harry's forehead. Harry shifted under his gaze.  
  
"The room number of Sirius Black? Right-oh, of course...right...give me but a minute..." He started shuffling papers, jumping from spot to spot around the desk as if he were a grasshopper. He kept on squinting through his glasses as if his lenses weren't strong enough, and papers were falling off the desk left and right, once again giving Harry the impression that the people at this desk were very disorganized.  
  
Hermione and Percy both frowned disapprovingly at him. Harry was quite sure that if Hermione had personally known this man she would have begun to lecture him about being neat, but Harry knew she had more common sense than to go bugging strangers the same way she bugged her friends. Percy, however, opened his mouth to comment, but just then the man found whatever it was he was looking for, and good for him-Percy was frowning very deeply and looking quite annoyed.  
  
"Sirius Black is in room 521," the man said, obviously very relieved that he had found what he was looking for, and there was a note of pride in his voice. Hermione noticed and raised her eyebrow at him, but kept her mouth shut. Harry, however, perked up his ears as the man continued to talk. "In the intensive care unit, fifth floor."  
  
Harry felt a short and quick stab of fear. Intensive care? Harry had known that Sirius was hurt, but he hadn't supposed that his head injury was that serious...Harry felt more anxious than ever to see his godfather.  
  
"Thank you, " Mr. Weasley said politely. Then he nodded to Mrs. Weasley, motioned for everyone to follow him, and began leading them all through the enormous room.  
  
Harry followed, feeling very nervous indeed, and as they flattened his bangs down over his scar out of habit. He didn't feel like people gawking at his forehead very much, and he suddenly felt very grateful that his father hadn't been famous, and people wouldn't recognize Harry as soon as they realized he was James Potter's son.  
  
Soon enough Harry felt a lump rise in his throat, and he dimly thought that he hadn't felt this nervous since before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, when he was going to face a dragon. Ron seemed to sense Harry's emotions and gave him a pat on his bag, although he looked slightly sick himself. Hermione gave him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to see past the anxiousness in her eyes. Harry suddenly realized that Ron and Hermione looked almost as worried as he was...  
  
Although the two of them might not have become as close to Sirius as Harry had grown through their letter correspondence over the past year, they had known him as long as he had, and both of them had played an important part in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic last year. There were only five people in the world that knew of Sirius's innocence, other than Sirius himself-Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore. Although Harry hadn't spoken to Lupin in over a year, the five of them had shared a secret that, when revealed, could change the thoughts of every member of the magical world, and that gave them a sort of almost bond...  
  
Lost in thought, Harry didn't even notice when Mr. Weasley led them to one of the staircases that branched off from the main room. After all the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were all on the crowded, narrow staircase, Mr. Weasley stopped. Harry was confused, and peered around Percy to see what Mr. Weasley was doing. However, he wasn't doing anything, he was just standing very calmly on the staircase. Harry wished that he would hurry up, the staircase had walls on both sides of it, and with everyone crowded together Harry was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. Everybody looked at Mr. Weasley expectantly, and then he said, in a very clear voice, "Room 521."  
  
Then to Harry's great surprise and amazement-and apparently to Ron's, Hermione's, Ginny's, Fred's, and George's as well-the staircase began to move. Although...the walls on either side of the staircase didn't appear to be shifting, and for the life of Harry he couldn't figure out at all what was going on. He knew he was moving, though, because he had felt the lurch, and he had the sensation that they were moving. The movement reminded Harry of something, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It seemed that the whole staircase-along with the walls on either side of it-was moving through the hospital building.  
  
Then a thought occurred to Harry, and he whirled around to see the bottom of the staircase. Instead of the foot of the staircase opening up into the enormous room that was on the ground floor-like it should have, in Harry's mind-there was now a wall there, identical to the white-washed walls that surrounded the sides of the staircase. At the top of the staircase there was also the same identical wall. Suddenly, Harry laughed aloud. Of course! He knew what this reminded him of! He chuckled at the simplicity and similarity of it, because this...this was the magical version of an elevator! In Harry's anxious and cluttered mind, this small similarity and slightest bit of humor that the thought of this magical elevator produced was enough to make him laugh.  
  
Suddenly, the stairway (or "magical elevator," as Harry began to call it) stopped moving, and the wall at the top of the staircase slid away to reveal a hallway. Quickly, the nine of them hurried up and out of the stairway.  
  
When Harry emerged from the stairway, he found himself in a corridor that was completely empty, save for the doors that opened into rooms for the hospital patients.  
  
Gazing around and wondering where room 521 was, Harry saw that Mr. Weasley was doing the same thing-trying to find the room. Looking at the door in front of him, Harry saw that there was a sign on it that read "Room 511." Looking at the door a few feet away from it, he read "Room 513." Soon Harry was walking down the hallway, reading the room signs as he went, until he reached a door with a sign that read, "Room 521."  
  
Harry, paused, taking a deep breath, and put his hand on the doorknob. Then he turned around and saw Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys watching him anxiously and expectantly.   
  
"Go on, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "You go in first, we'll wait outside." Harry looked at her gratefully, and then at Ron and Hermione, who nodded encouragingly to him. Breathing in deeply again, Harry turned to the door. Biting his lip and trying to ignore and thumping of his heart, Harry opened the door.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I bet you guys are all thinking, "FINALLY!" Haha, this did take a long time to work up to didn't it? I have this habit of dragging these things out, I guess. Maybe I shouldn't have ended the chapter here, because now you're all going to kill me...oh, well. Chapter 10 might take a bit longer to come out, it's going to be hard for me to write (a bit like this one, you guys have no idea how long it took me to write this chapter! I am the "Queen of Procrastination") so I don't know when it'll be posted, I'll try to make it not too long-I'll work like a house elf to get it up! (Hehe, don't tell Hermione I said that!)  
I went back and realized how many typos were in the last chapter-oy-but I was too lazy to go back and change it.  
  
Abby: Sorry to burst your bubble, girl, but you never did answer my question! I can't answer anything if I don't know the question...  
Don't worry, you didn't have to do anything! FanFiction.Net has been acting retarded lately, I wouldn't have done anything if I had been you, I don't think.  
  
WeasleyTwins1112: "Oops I did it again..." okay wait forget I ever sang that...when I was writing these chapters I didn't realize what I was doing...geez, I'm sorry guys. Argh...next chapter, Harry sees Sirius, I promise!  
  
Wellduh... :Yeah, poor Sirius! You know how Harry feels? Aw yeah I guess I do too when it comes down to it. Don't worry, he's not going to be incredibly bad. At least, I don't think!   
  
Yuffie-Girl: Okay, just out of curiousity, what does "Yuffie" mean? Right that was really randomn...magical hospitals ARE different, exactly! Actually, I looked it up-lavender is associated with healing other people, and green for general healing, so I thought that it would be a nice touch. Bigger event? Hehe there are going to bigger events...hehe... 


	10. Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? and 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
A/N: Here's what you've all been waiting for! Drumroll please...Harry finally sees Sirius!  
Enjoy!  
  
  
A/N: I'm writing this on Thursday: Ahhhh!!! Oh my gosh guys I'm soooo sorry! Something in my computer was screwed up and the whole chapter didn't show up on FanFiction.Net! Grrr...yous ee, there's a couple of more paragraphs after "...the fifth of which is Black himself!" Thanks so much, wellduh... for saying that that was a bad place to end the chapter, so I went to check the story out. Man this is screwed up...about chapter 11, I'm gonna work my butt off tomorrow to write it, but I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try.  
  
Chapter Ten-Cornelius Fudge and Albys Dumbledore  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry walked into Sirius's room, closed the door behind him, and--filled with something that felt remarkably close to dread-turned around to face the bed, and gasped.  
  
There lay Sirius. He didn't look nearly as bad as Harry had expected him to, but Harry couldn't do anything but stare for a moment. His left arm was in a sling that was being held slightly over the edge of the bed, and-although Harry couldn't really tell, because Sirius was mostly lying on his back-there appeared to be a large bandage on the back of his head. But the thing that had made Harry gasp was Sirius's coloring: he was pale, very, very pale. So pale that, although it might have been his imagination, it seemed to Harry that he was hardly darker colored the white hospital blankets. He was unnerved by this-why was he so pale?  
  
Sirius appeared to be sleeping, and Harry didn't want to wake him up, he knew what it was like to need sleep after you receive injuries. Instead, he slowly walked over to his bedside and just stood there, for how long he couldn't tell, watching Sirius's chest rise and fall with every breath he took. After days of worrying about Sirius's safety, just watching him lie here in peace was-to Harry-the equivalent as if one of the doctors in the hospital had given him a sedative. Watching Sirius sleep peacefully, he soon felt calmer and more at ease than he had felt in days.  
  
As he looked at him, Harry began to think that he was relatively lucky, Sirius's condition could have been worse. Think of all the people who died or are going to die from the attacks in Southampton and Liverpool, Harry reminded himself. I'm really lucky, Sirius is going to be okay.  
  
But then a startling new thought occurred to him. Was Sirius going to be okay? He was in the hospital for a head injury, and head injuries can be very serious, and people aren't in the hospital for no reason...and he was in intensive care...  
  
With a sick feeling in his stomach Harry realized that this wasn't totally over yet, and suddenly, he didn't feel so lucky anymore.  
  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
  
  
Hermione watched anxiously as Harry walked into Sirius's room. For a moment, Hermione and the Weasleys didn't say anything, then she turned to Mr. Weasley, sighing heavily.  
  
"So what's going to happen now?" She asked.  
  
"Well," Mr. Weasley said slowly. "I am going to try and find a doctor who can tell us more about Sirius's condition, and then I'm going to speak with Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"Why?" Ron asked. Hermione frowned. Honestly, Ron was one of her best friends and she cared about him a lot, but sometimes he seemed a just a little bit slow. However, she chewed on her bottom lip and refrained from making one of her trademark brisk, know-it-all responses-she didn't feel like being her own self at the moment. Instead, she let Mr. Weasley answer.  
  
"Because I want to find out what the news is on the Minister giving Sirius a trial. Now," he directed his attention to the rest of them. "I'm going to look for that doctor now, and I want you lot to stay in the waiting room, and don't go in and bother Harry until he comes out himself. Then," he nodded at Mrs. Weasley. "We're going to get Albus."  
  
Mrs. Weasley nodded, and without another word, her husband swept off down the hallway. Then she led them to the empty waiting room, where they all sat down. Percy looked a little agitated about not going with his father, but he didn't say anything about the matter, but instead picked up a pamphlet on head injuries and began to read. Mrs. Weasley sat down next to him, reading over his shoulder. Fred and George, for once, were not talking, and Ginny just sat staring at her knees, her hair falling over her face. Ron turned to Hermione, however, and they began to speak in low voices.  
  
"D'you think Fudge will give Sirius a trial?" He asked her, and as an afterthought he growled, "He better...he's already suffered too much! This is ridiculous, someone's got to listen to us, he's innocent!"  
  
"I know that and you know that," Hermione said reasonably. "But it's a matter of whether the Ministry knows that, Ron. After all, there were just five of us who saw Pettigrew confess to following Voldemort-three teenage wizards-one of which Fudge already thinks is off his rocker-a werewolf and a convicted murderer. I hate to say it, but in the Ministry's eyes, we aren't very reliable eyewitnesses. I don't like it anymore than you do."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Ron said miserably. "But, I swear, if Fudge doesn't listen to us and sends Sirius back to Azkaban, I'll...I'll..."  
  
"I know, Ron," Hermione said quietly with a sigh, something she had been doing a lot of lately. "I know."  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
  
Meanwhile there was a bit of a commotion in the office of Cornelius Fudge at the Ministry of Magic. Fudge was in a seriously bad mood.   
  
He was sitting at his desk, surrounded by books and papers and letters, with his head in his hands, massaging his forehead wearily. There was a small, incredibly annoying owl that belonged to the Weasley family flying in circles around the room. It had delivered a very frank, straight-to-the-point letter from Arthur Weasley himself, saying in very clear terms that he would be supporting Dumbledore all the way when it came to deciding the innocence of Sirius Black. He had received a very similar letter from Remus Lupin. Fudge hardly cared anymore-none of them we're in a big position of power in the Ministry, and if he kept saying no, these people would have to stop pestering him. Ignore him and he'll go away...Fudge though wryly as he remembered what his mother used to say when his little brother would provoke him into getting into sibling arguments.  
  
The owl made a chittering sort of noise as it zoomed around the office. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? Fudge thought furiously. It had been in his office for almost two hours and didn't seem to want to leave. What was really annoying him about the darned thing, however, was that every ten minutes or so it would pick up a random piece of paper from somewhere in his office, and then drop it on Fudge's head. Then he would chirping madly as if he had accomplished some amazing feat that Fudge should reward him for.  
  
At that very moment, the owl dropped a letter from Lucius Malfoy on his head. Fudge sat there for a moment, then he wearily lifted a hand a brushed it off of his scalp. It fluttered to the floor, but he didn't bother to pick it up, there was already too much paper on the floor for one addition to make much of a difference. Fudge felt like sticking his head out of his office window and wailing his brains out he brought his head down onto the desk and left it there.  
  
This is too much, he thought miserably. I'm beginning to crack. I'm getting overly swamped with all this action by these people that claim to be Death Eaters--blast the Daily Prophet, who's encouraging those rumors-and this whole business with that dratted Sirius Black, and I'm getting owls from people left and right, and Dumbledore won't leave me alone, and the magical world is in a panic because they all thought that Voldemort was returning, which-Fudge downright refused to believe-he was NOT, and on top of it all there was this bothersome, maddening, dim-witted owl that was a major pain in the you-know-what that was going to get his neck broken if he didn't shut up because he was beginning to give Fudge a migraine.  
  
And on top of it all, he was expected at St. Mungo's in a couple of hours.  
  
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a knock on the door.  
  
"Who is it?" He called, his voice muffled because his mouth was pressed against his desktop.  
  
"It's me," said the voice of his secretary, Martha.  
  
Fudge sighed, sat up, straightened his robes, and called out, "What is it?"  
  
Martha opened the door. Warily eyeing the mess that met her, she said, "Well, sir, Albus Dumbledore, is here to see you."  
  
Fudge stared at her, a bit disbelievingly. "P-pardon? Albus...Albus Dumbledore?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Martha said, shifting uncormfortably under his gaze. "That would be the Albus that I am referring to."  
  
"Yes, of course," Fudge sighed. "Bring him in." Martha nodded and, after a small frown directed at the Weasley's owl-which was now sitting on top of a bookcase, chirping and chittering madly and looking very content with himself--she left, leaving the door open behind her.  
  
Albus Dumbledore was beginning to irritate Fudge beyond tolerance with all his persisting about giving Black a trial, or at least a hearing of some sort-goodness, couldn't the man just give him a break! He hadn't slept very much in the past few weeks, and all he wanted to do was to clear up the business with those so-called Death Eaters and ship Black off to Azkaban and off of his back.  
  
Fudge wasn't particulary looking forward to seeing Dumbledore, but he decided that if he just told him a downright "no" to giving Black a trial, he might leave him alone. Might.  
  
Fudge looked up as Albus Dumbledore walked swiftly into his office. Ignoring the mess and striding forward right to the desk in the back of the room, he rested his palms on the wooden desktop and leaned forward. The usual twinkle was out of his eyes, but his face showed no expression.  
  
"Cornelius," he said simply, in a firm, calm voice. Fudge looked at him, understanding what that one statement of his name meant. It was a commanding question...an oxymoron if I've ever heard one, Fudge thought a bit wryly.  
  
"Albus," he responded, although not as calmly, his voice shook slightly as he spoke. After a short silence, Fudge added, "I'm not doing it, Dumbledore. I will not give an already convicted murderer a trial. It doesn't make any sense, there is absolutely no point to it."  
  
"Ah, but there is a point, Cornelius," Dumbledore said, still very calmly. "There is a point to giving an innocent man his freedom."  
  
"Black is not innocent!" Fudge said sharply, standing up and beginning to pace around his office, massaging his forehead. "You have to admit, Dumbledore, that the evidence against him thirteen years ago was very strong. I just don't see how anyone-" he looked pointedly at Dumbledore, and then waved his hand around the room, motioning to the letters from Lupin and Mr. Weasley. "-could be convinced that he's not guilty!"  
  
"Cornelius," Dumbledore said, and anyone who looked at him then would see that a fire was beiginning to be kindled in his eyes. "Five people saw Peter Pettigrew confess to the crimes of which Black was convicted-"  
  
"Yes, Dumbledore, five people!" Fudge cried, interrupting the other man mid-sentence. "A werewolf, three teenagers-one of which I already know is untrustworthy and is Black's godson, and another of which is Arthur Weasley's son-and the fifth of which is Black himself!"  
  
"Cornelius, I assure you that actions will be taken to assure that justice will be done," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes blazing now. Then with a swift nod and the swish of his robes, he had left, leaving Fudge to wonder whether what he had just said would be considered a threat. He hardly noticed when a small grey owl flew out of his office window and into the morning air.  
  
Outside in the waiting room for Fudge's office, Dumbledore reached into the pocket of his robes for a handful of Floo Powder, and tossed it into the fireplace, murmering the words, "St. Mungo's." There was work to be done.  
  
  
  
  
AN: This originally wasn't going to be the end of the chapter, but it seemed like a good place to stop...do you guys think I characterized Fudge well enough? And is it just me, or does Dumbledore seem a little out of character?  
  
I know this chapter took longer than usual, and it's not really long, sorry guys! I've been really busy lately-my mom is having her gall bladder out tomorrow...and, well, I know I mentioned this before but I know that some new readers have arrived, so I'll say it again-on Saturday I'm going away for two weeks to a place where I cannot upload chapters and won't be back until August 31st,I think. I'll try my best to get chapter 11 out before then and get a start on 12...also, I can't guarantee that I'll have the next chapter ready as soon as I get back because I'll be busy there, but it depends how much time I have on my hands and whether I feel like writing-you see, I can't write a decent chapter if I'm not in the mood for writing. So, some people answer this in the reviews: If-and that's an IF-I get around to starting chapter 12 before I leave, do you want me to post it unfinished or not? Now, don't get me wrong-I may not be able to start it, but if I do...  
  
The fact that italics won't show when I upload my chapters is really beginning to annoy me...I mean, somethings you can emphasize by putting it in caps, but still...it's driving me nuts!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Lalala...hehe, this is fun...I'm evil, aren't I? Hehe... :)  
  
Gengi: You peoplea are all going to be happy today, I think!   
  
Silver Moons: I noticed that you only reviewed the first chapter...you might want to read the other nine that are up! :)  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Yeah, there are about two other "Rainbow"'s on the site, I think...I didn't know that, though, when I signed up. Thank you! Don't worry, Sirius will wake up in the next chapter...Yes, as you already know, Fudge is in this story!  
  
PadfootProngs: Thanks a lot! I promise I will read your stories when I get home, or maybe in the next few days if I get the chance.  
  
Last chapter was Typo City, grrr! And don't worry, guys-Sirius will be awake in the next chapter! 


	11. Wakings, Findings, and Gred and Forgeine...

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? And 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
A/N: You guys are really lucky that I was able to write this chapter before I go away-I wrote this all in one day under the influence of large amounts of Coke and chocolate-vanilla ice cream. I also wrote it while one of my cats attempted to eat my food, fall asleep on my arm, and help type the story by sitting on the keyboard. Did I mention that he finds the computer extremely fascinating, and was sniffing at it and poking at it with his paw? And that he basically spent the whole time I was writing this lying on top of the suitcases that are near the computer and looking up at me pathetically? If any of you guys have cats, you probably know what I'm talking about.  
I tried to not leave it with a cliffie so you guys wouldn't kill me...I tried...  
  
  
  
Chapter Eleven-Wakings, Findings, and Gred and Forge-iness  
  
  
  
  
  
*Harry was walking towards the Fat Lady's portrait hole in the Gryffindor common room. He had the vague idea of going to the Owlery to send a letter to Sirius, and he decided that it was a good idea. So he moved swiftly across the room and pushed opened the portrait. Moving out of the common room, he slipped into the hole and waited for his feet to touch cold, stone floor of the corridor outside.  
  
But the feeling never came. Filled with dread as it took longer than usual for his feet to touch the ground, Harry looked down and saw that there was no corridor floor to touch, just a deep, black abyss. With a strangled yell, he reached up and tried to grab onto the edge of the portrait hole, but somehow the portrait had closed by itself and the Fat Lady had chosen now, of all times, to be out of her frame.  
  
So Harry fell into the dark, with the wind sweeping past him so fast it made it hard to breathe. Suddenly he heard voices below him, and looking down, he saw that far, far beneath him he could clearly see Peter Pettigrew and the resurrected form of Voldemort grinning and waiting for him to fall right next to him at the bottom of the pit that he was falling in.  
  
"No!" Harry yelled, twisting away and trying to defy gravity by clawing his way in midair back up...and then he heard another voice, a kinder voice.  
  
"Harry..." It was Sirius. Quickly looking up, although he was still falling, Harry saw Ron, Hermione, and Sirius looking down at him from the top of the pit. And Sirius was still speaking.  
  
"Harry..." He was saying. "It's time, Harry, it's time..."  
  
"T-time?" Harry sputtered. Looking down once more, he saw that he was very close to the bottom of the pit. He began to try to claw his way up again, away from Pettigrew's and Voldemort's outstretched arms, but with no avail.  
  
"It's time...it's time..."  
  
"Time for what?" Harry yelled, but he never heard Sirius's answer, because just then he felt his body slam into the stone floor. He could see Pettigrew looming over him, and if Sirius said anything more, Harry didn't know, because now the only thing that he could hear was a cold, cruel laugh.*  
  
  
  
"Time to wake up, Harry!" Sirius said. With a small gasp Harry jerked out of sleep, his whole body flinching as if he really had hit a stone floor. He was confused, and didn't really know where he was, somebody had taken his glasses off and everything was blurry. Then he remembered: he was in his bed in Privet Drive. Oh, of course! Feeling strangely assured, Harry tried to roll out of bed, but instead he fell off the chair that he was sitting on and a second later he found himself sitting on a whitewashed hospital floor, and memories came back to him.  
  
St. Mungo's...in Sirius's room...sat down on a chair...fell asleep...it was just a dream...Sirius told me to wake up...  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief; it was just a dream. But then he remembered what his mind had said had happened merely moments before, but he hadn't completely processed it...Sirius told me to wake up...  
  
Sirius told me to wake up?!?!  
  
Looking around and feeling a bit lost without his glasses, Harry tried to jump to his feet, but he stumbled and soon found himself on the floor again.  
  
"Er...Harry?" Came Sirius's voice from somewhere above his head. "You might...uh...need these...yeah, um..." Then Harry felt a pair of hands slip his glasses onto his eyes, and everything came into focus.  
  
He was sitting on the floor between the chair that he had earlier pulled up to Sirius's beside and the bed itself. Still groggy from his sleep, he looked up and saw that Sirius was leaning slightly over the edge of his bed. His face a mixture of surprise, concern and a trace of amusement at his godson's stunned face. His green eyes locked with Sirius's blue, and Harry began to choke out words.  
  
"Si...Sirius?" He asked disbelievingly. Then, feeling fully awake, he jumped to his feet-dimly noticing a sharp pain in his back from falling asleep in a hard chair--and stared down at the bed as Sirius leaned back onto his pillow. "Sirius!"  
  
"That would be me," Sirius said, grinning slightly with his eyebrow raised in a way that gave him a slightly mischievous look. Harry was unable to take his eyes off of his godfather as he half sat; half fell onto his chair. Then he gripped the mattress with his nails and pulled his chair as close to Sirius as possible, the bedframe digging into his knees, and leaning forward so far that he was practically sitting on the bed himself.  
  
Sirius positioned his pillow so that he was in a sitting position, leaning against the pillow and the bedframe. Then, looking into Harry's anxious face, he said, "Hi, Harry."  
  
"Hi," came the small reply. After a moment, Harry timidly asked, "Sirius, are you...alright?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Sirius said carelessly, waving his hand in the air. Then, seeing Harry's skeptical look, he sighed. "Look, I'm okay, really, I am. The inability to use this-" he nodded at the arm that was in the sling "-is annoying, and their giving me painkillers for my head that make me drowsy and tired. I'm a bit achy, for lack of a better word, but I'm really overally alright. Truly," he added a bit desperately, trying to get that look of concern off of Harry's face. "I'm okay!"  
  
Harry sighed heavily, and leaned back in his chair, still staring at Sirius as he said, "Well, what about you, kiddo? How are you doing?"  
  
Kiddo. Sirius's old nickname for Harry just fell out of his mouth as he spoke, without even realizing what he was doing. Memories of him sitting with Harry on his lap, playing with him as he talked to Lily and James in their living room in Godric's Hollow flooded back to him for a moment, memories that had all but disappeared during the time that he spent in Azkaban. But the moment passed, and they were gone.  
  
"I'm...managing," Harry said truthfully, not wanting to lie to Sirius and say that he was fine as well. Then he realized something. "Wait a second, how come you aren't surprised that I'm here?"  
  
"Dumbledore told me that the Weasleys were bringing you over today," Sirius answered, smiling at him. "But even if I hadn't known that you were coming, I wouldn't have been surprised to see you. I know that you would have gotten here somehow, even if it meant flying on your broomstick."  
  
"Dumbledore was here? When?" Harry asked sharply, sitting up again.  
  
"Just yesterday," Sirius said, looking curiously at Harry. "Why? What's the matter? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Did he tell you anything about Fudge?" Harry asked quickly, ignoring Sirius's questions.  
  
"Fudge?" Sirius said, looking bewildered. "No, he didn't mention Fudge...what are you talking about, Harry? What's going on? Harry?"  
  
Harry had sunk back into his chair, his face pale. "I thought you knew...I thought you knew..."  
  
"Knew what?" Sirius asked, beginning to get scared now. "Harry, please tell me what's wrong, please, your scaring me now..."  
  
Harry was silent for a minute, staring at his knees, and in that time Sirius studied him carefully. Then he sighed, and after he thought he had a good idea about what was going on, he said, "It's about my trial, isn't it?"  
  
Harry raised his eyes to look at him. "I guess you could say that," he answered miserably. Then he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on Sirius's bed. Green met blue as their eyes locked for a second time. Sirius leaned forward as well, carefully moving closer to Harry as he tried to monitor the movement of his sprained arm.  
  
"Yes, it's about the trial..." Harry began reluctantly. He seemed to not want to continue. "Fudge says that you're not going to have one..." His throat constricted for a few seconds, then he made himself speak again. "After your recovered, he wants to send you straight back to Azkaban."  
  
Sirius's face was dark as he leaned back onto his pillow. "I expected that," he muttered distractedly. Then, directing his attention back to Harry, he asked, "But Dumbledore's fighting for me, right?"  
  
"Right," Harry answered weakly. Sirius looked at him in concern, unhappily noticing the dark shadows under his eyes and-although he came no where near to Sirius-how pale he was.  
  
"Look, I'm going to get that trial," he said firmly, and found that he was reassuring himself more than Harry. "I am! I'm going to get it, kid, don't you worry. Fudge is going to give me that trial whether he wants to or not!"  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
Meanwhile, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Colette Villons, was walking through the lobby of St. Mungo's. As she walked, male heads turned to watch her make her way swiftly to the center of the room. Used to this kind of attention, Colette ignored it and continued her search for Cornelius Fudge.  
  
Where on Earth is that man? She thought irritably. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her watch. He is supposed to be here...  
  
Colette wasn't used to waiting for people. She had always been very impatient, her whole life, despite of what her mother used to say: "Tenez vos chaveuax!" Hold your horses! But Colette had always been somewhat of a cheeky little girl, and had always promptly and matter-of-factly replied, "Mais mama, je n'ai pas aucun cheval." But Mama, I do not have any horses.  
  
Grinning slightly as she felt herself slip into her memories, she hardly noticed when a man came up behind until he tapped on her shoulder.  
  
"Hello, Miss Villons," said a familiar voice. But the voice didn't belong to Cornelius Fudge. Colette turned to face him, smiling at the long white beard and blue eyes behind a pair of half-moon spectacles.   
  
"Hello, Albus," She said pleasantly, looking at him carefully. "I trust everything is going well in your neck of the woods?"  
  
"Not as well I would like," Dumbledore answered, giving a small sigh. "Colette, I need to talk to you. It's very important. Although you don't hold as much power as Cornelius Fudge, this matter does greatly involve your field, and I was hoping that you will listen to my story and possibly give me some help."  
  
Colette looked at Dumbldore curiously and almost suspiciously. He had never come to ask her for his help before-she had always pretty much stayed in her department and he had always dealt with his school. They were just acquantices, and neither of them knew the other one all that well. He must really need help...she thought.  
  
"It involves the law?" Colette asked, still trying to think of what he could possibly need her help with.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Maybe we could have lunch together?"  
  
"Well, I'm actually waiting to meet the Minister," She said, gesturing around the lobby. "But he doesn't seem to be here..."  
  
"He won't be here for about an hour," Dumbledore said. "He was held up at the Ministry."  
  
"Oh," Colette smiled. "So that's why you're here?"  
  
"Yes. So lunch?"  
  
"Lunch."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
Back in room 521, Sirius had fallen asleep again. Moving quietly so as to not wake his godfather, Harry carefully slipped out of the room and into the hallway. Walking past the doors to his left and right, he made his way into the waiting room, where-even though it was hours later-Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were still waiting. Percy and Mrs. Weasley had gone to find Mr. Weasley, who was still trying to find Professor Dumbledore. They all looked up at him, and Hermione tentatively said, "Well?"  
  
Sitting down in one of the empty chairs and smiling at them all, Harry told them everything that had happened since he had entered Sirius's room, although leaving out the content of his dream and of the conversation between him and Sirius. He wanted to keep those two things to himself for the time being.   
  
After a few minutes of a comfortable silence between the six of them, Fred and George suddenly stood up.  
  
"Harry," Fred began importantly. "Since we are the official Gred and Forge of Hogwarts and of the world, we will present an offering to you." Harry looked at them warily, not sure whether he wanted they're offering or not.   
  
"Here," Fred said, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand.  
  
"Fred," Hermione began to scold him. "You know that we're not supposed to do magic outside of school-"  
  
"Wait, Hermione," George said, holding up his hand to silence her. "Just wait." Then he nodded at his brother, telling him to continue.  
  
"Right," Fred said. "Moving along...Lumos." But instead of the wand's tip lighting up, the wand changed into a small, brown, plush teddy bear. Fred grinned and tossed the bear to Harry, who caught it in surprise. He stared at it. A teddy bear? Suddenly, there was a small *pop* sound and a second later the teddy bear was holding a piece of paper that read, "Gotcha!" Harry laughed along with everyone else, and even Hermione was smiling. George walked over to him, grinning.  
  
"A new version of our trick wands!" He said proudly. "Here you, go Harry!" And with that he thrust about five more of those wands into Harry's hands. "As many as you want!"  
  
Harry stuffed them into his pocket, and smiled around at all the people sitting in the room. "Thanks, guys," He said. "For everything."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Wow I worked like a house elf to get this out! *inches away from a glaring Hermione* All the time I started singing all these traveling-working songs for some reason, like Into the Woods, Heigh-Ho, We're Off to See the Wizard, and I've Been Working on the Railroad...I love singing, don't sue me! Hehe, my parents are annoyed because I'm not helping load the car for tomorrow...oh, well.  
  
Well, Sirius finally woke up! Hurray! This chapter didn't really end on a cliffie, did it? I don't think so...I'll try to have chapter 12 ready by the time I get back in two weeks, but I'm sorry, I can't guarantee anything!  
  
Well, I hoped you guys liked this, and remember to check back in early September for an update.  
  
  
Abby: Oh, broke your ankle! Man, that sucks. I hope it gets better soon! Well, I had a sprained ankle once, and I was in the ER waiting for a X-ray forever...also, I've been to the ER for my brother before, and I know that it's not fun.  
The fifth book...oy. Let's say that she-theoretically-finished writing it today...we wouldn't get it until January. Why? Because it takes five months to edit, design, print, and ship to bookstores. So, we won't be getting it any time soon. Marvelous, huh? I did hear about that thing in China, but I think that it's better to get the best deal possible than if she rushed things and made a book that didn't live up to the others. Painkillers? Ugh.  
You must have read the chapter before I fixed everything-go back and read it!  
  
Alexis Potter: Oh, I love new reviewers! Hi! Well, thanks a lot, I'm really glad that you like my story!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: You're my fiftieth reviewer! Woohoo! Yeah, Fudge is pretty dumb in this story, huh?  
  
Gengi: Your computer won't let you sign in? That sucks...don't worry; he drives me crazy, too!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: You must have read the chapter before I fixed it! Go back and read it, I think everything will make more sense now! Well, this chapter is a bit longer than the past two, and I'll try to write longer chapters...thanks, I'm glad that I did Fudge well.  
  
  
Well, that's all, folks! *Nibbles on a carrot* I'll see you in two weeks! 


	12. On the Road to Success

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? And 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
A/N: I'm baaaack! Woohoo! I had an awesome time in New Hampshire! Did ya miss me?   
  
Unfortunately, I didn't get to write the twelfth chapter while I was there, so I had to write it when I got home. I was really busy, and by the second week of being on vacation I needed to refresh my memory and read the eleventh chapter again before starting on this one-which I wasn't able to do, seeing that I didn't have my computer with me. Also, there was something else that I neglected to do while I was there... "coughcoughhomeworkcough* I have to get it all done by Thursday-no, Wednesday, because school starts on Thursday...I'm starting my freshman year of high school! Which reminds me-until I told you right now, how old did you lot think I was? I'm just wondering...I know, I ask strange and random questions...  
  
Well, I hope this chapter ties up some loose ends for you guys! I have started using the asterisk (or however you spell it) sign thingy * to show when there are italics, because the whole no-Italics things is really annoying me, to say the least.  
Oh...and just so you know, "Villons" is French and pronounced "Vill-yon." Also, I'm in my singing mood right now, and that always makes me feel somewhat giddy, so I thought I'd give you guys a little preview of this chapter before you read it. So, two words: Enter-Remus.  
  
  
Chapter Twelve-On the Road to Success  
  
  
  
  
Colette Villons and Albus Dumbledore were sitting in a small table in very back of the Leaky Cauldron, having just finished their lunch. Colette was-once again-very impatient because her lunch partner had avoided talking about the reason that she was there the whole meal, and instead had been making casual, friendly, and normal chatter. Colette, knowing that Albus Dumbledore was not one that you press for questions, had restrained herself from yelling at him to, "Spit it out already!", and just sat there instead, peering at him keenly and warily over her cup of coffee. At that moment, their waiter came by and Dumbledore ordered a cup of coffee as well. Then, quite suddenly, he turned to Colette.  
  
"Well, it is high time we talk about your reason for being here," Dumbledore said, looking at the younger woman carefully. Colette sat up straight, placing her mug on the table and pricking up her ears. She felt as though Dumbledore might be able to sense her impatience, and he continued to speak.  
  
"I need your help in a professional area," He said carefully. "It concerns matters that I wouldn't approach a good many people with, but I trust you, and you're the best link that I have into the both the high members of the Ministry and the law."  
  
Colette watched him, still a little wary, and she bit back the urge to hiss, "Tell me something I don't already know!" Although they weren't especially good friends and some people may not have guessed it from watching the two of them together, but Colette was very fond of Albus Dumbledore...though at times it seemed to her impatient spirit that this man could be a bit exhausting, when it came down to it.   
  
Instead, she gave a strained smile, and said, a bit forcefully, "Please, Albus, just do get on with it." He looked at her and smiled, his eyes twinkling, and this time she was sure that he could sense how she was feeling. She marveled over how perceptive he could be at times, and it wasn't the first time she had thought that about him.  
  
"To not beat around the bush, so to speak..." Dumbledore said, and the former twinkle was gone as his eyes turned very serious. He motioned for her to lean in closer to the table as he did the same, and despite everything she felt as if they were two children conspiring and making silly, ridiculous plans together. Impatience was clouding her thoughts now, and she so strongly felt that she wanted so badly to know what it is he wanted that she could taste it.  
  
"I am going to say this very bluntly-this matter involves Sirius Black," Dumbledore finished, looking at her with a trace of expectance in his eyes. However, she neither said anything nor showed any emotion in her face to show him what she was feeling, but she simply stared at him.  
  
Sirius Black? Of all the things that he could have said, this is what she had least expected. She knew, of course, as did most members of the Ministry, that Dumbledore was trying very hard to convince Cornelius Fudge to give Black a trial. Still a little stunned by Dumbledore's words, she tried to remember what her thoughts were on the matter of Sirius Black.  
  
Back when the question about him getting a trial or not had arisen, she had decided to not get involved in it. She had enough to deal with these days with all these strange happenings in the wizarding world, and she didn't feel like dealing with issues that the Minister didn't approach her with. She had also known Black as an acquaintance, and she didn't like to mix professional matters with her social life. There was another reason, however, that she hadn't wanted to get involved in the matter.   
  
She was one of the few people that were undecided about whether Black should be given a trial or not, because from where she stood in the situation she could easily see the two sides of the problem.  
  
For years Colette had believed Black to be guilty of the crimes that he had been sentenced to Azkaban for, just like the rest of the magical community. She agreed with Fudge in the aspect that he had already been convicted, so why convict him again?   
  
But then again...then another side of her conscious would protest. Colette was a great believer in justice being done, and although she had been only a teenager at the time, she had never thought it was very fair that Black-along with other Dark wizards that were arrested at the time-hadn't been given an opportunity to defend themselves. Like others, of course, she believed them to be guilty-mainly because there was solid evidence and not many people-if anyone at all-who was willing to vouch for their innocence. But she still felt that it was unfair, and what would happen-theoretically, of course-if one of the people accused happened to be innocent and was sent to Azkaban for no good reason? She shuddered to think about it.   
  
Plus, there was also the small-yet determined-group of people who were fighting for Black's right to a trial. This was what most tore her in two-because none of the other Dark wizards had had people trying to fight for them. It was also confusing for her, though-because she couldn't help wonder why these people had not come out to defend Black when he was accused, almost fourteen years ago? That friend of Black's, that werewolf-why hadn't he come out sooner? Granted, she had to give the defenders some slack, because at the time three of Black's defenders had been babies...but that confused her even more. How could they be defending him now if they were so young in the very beginning, what could they know now? Colette had a vague knowledge of the night that Black had escaped from Hogwarts-something involving Severus Snape, Black's friend, Harry Potter and his two friends, and a hippogriff.  
  
Harry Potter. Putting the Boy-Who-Lived into this situation made Colette-if at all possible-more confused than ever. Unlike Fudge, Colette didn't know about the supposed Secret Keeper pact between Black and the Potters, and only knew of Black's supposed murders of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew...and that Black was Harry's godfather. Therefore, she hadn't the slightest clue to what Harry Potter had to do with the situation besides him defending Black's innocence at Hogwarts.  
  
Colette's head swam as she collected her thoughts and slipped back into the present-which now consisted of a certain Albus Dumbledore watching her very carefully.   
  
"Albus..." Colette said, looking at him in suppressed confusion as she attempted to return his careful gaze. "Does this have anything to do with Black receiving a trial or not?"  
  
"Indeed it does," Dumbledore said calmly. Colette waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, she sighed in frustration, thinking over what he was presenting her with. Although he hadn't yet said specifically what he wanted her to do, she wasn't totally at a loss to what was going on. True, the whole case with Black did involve her department, but not her directly-the minister had mostly kept this issue to himself, and Colette was content to keep it that way. But, all the same...she wasn't going to refuse Dumbledore's request for help. Curiosity was beginning to get the better of her, but she tried to ignore it and kept her face neutral.  
  
"You want me to help you defend Black's innocence, Albus?" She asked, careful to keep her voice impassive.  
  
"No," Dumbledore answered quietly. Startled by this unexpected response, her cool manner quickly evaporated as she looked at him in surprise. Meeting her glance, Dumbledore held it, as he looked hard into her eyes.  
  
"I want you to hear Black's-and mine's-side of the story, and then you can decide what to do." He stopped, waiting for her answer.  
  
Colette studied him for a moment, then decided to give it a go. Listening to the story couldn't do her any harm, and she could always back out of it and say that she couldn't help him. If truth be told, she was curious to know what Black's story actually was. Finally, she nodded.  
  
Dumbledore nodded too, with a tone of finality, and leaned back in his chair. She did the same. Then he began to tell her the real story from the beginning, which had its origins in the lives of four young students at Hogwarts, three of which were to become some of the most famous men in the world. Suddenly filled with an interest and desire to know the truth, Colette listened with amazement to the incredible story that was being told that was unfolding before her eyes.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*One hour and a half later*  
  
  
A very unusual man indeed was sitting in a small, shabby house in the heart of the Yorkshire countryside. If an unsuspecting Muggle would happen to look into his kitchen window right then, he or she would probably back away, and then promptly call a mental institution. For, to the untrained eye, the man sitting in the kitchen would appear to be having an animate and engrossing conversation with his fireplace. But if a wizard were to look into his kitchen window, he or she would think nothing of it, and they-unlike a Muggle-would not be surprised to see the head of a man with long white hair, a long white beard, blue eyes, and half moon spectacles sitting among the flames.   
  
"...and so Colette Villons is going to help us." Said the head in the fireplace. The head belonged to a man named Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Colette Villons?" Repeated the other man in quiet surprise. This man's name was Remus Lupin, and he stared at Dumbledore, his tired eyes widening. "*Colette Villons?*"  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "She is the best link we have to the law, and she has a high enough position in the Ministry to have an influence on Cornelius Fudge."  
  
"Colette Villons..." Remus breathed, leaning back in the chair that he was sitting in and rubbing his forehead wearily. "I haven't talked to her in years."  
  
"Well, you will talk to her shortly," Dumbledore said briskly. "Seeing that she is going to be a great help in our efforts to help Sirius, she and other people with a high position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are going to interview you, me, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione."  
  
There was a moment of silence, in which Remus stared at his hands until looking up and saying, "That was very clever of you, Albus, to ask her to help us. Not only is she among the few whom are undecided about Sirius, but she also isn't prejudiced against werewolves. She and Arthur Weasley are part of a small group of gems in the Ministry these days," he added, truthfully stating in words what Dumbledore already knew. "Most of the others seem to be blindly following either Cornelius Fudge and Lucius Malfoy."  
  
"Unfortunate, but true," Dumbledore agreed sadly. He had noticed, too, that in recent years Fudge and the Malfoys seemed to be gaining people to follow them, no questions asked. Although Dumbledore had always made an effort to be civil to the Malfoys, he knew that they were most likely threatening Ministry members, but he had no way of proving it. And as for Fudge...Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh as he thought about the Minister of Magic.  
  
Fudge was a pompous and blustering man, and, although essentially good-natured, he had turned a blind eye to a good many things: He adored the Malfoys and downright refused to believe Death Eaters caused any of the recent attacks. He only listened to his small group of advisors, of which Dumbledore used to be a part of until earlier that summer. He was honestly unsure about Fudge's capabilities to run the British magical world, and couldn't help worrying every once in a while about Fudge's successor.  
  
"Albus?" Remus was saying softly. "Do you think she'll be of any help to us?"  
  
"If she really wants to help us, she will," Dumbledore slowly, choosing his words carefully. "And we could have great results. But if she doesn't..." He thought it best to leave the sentence unfinished.  
  
Remus nodded. Then he asked casually, almost brightly, "So, what did she think of our story?"  
  
"She says that it's very believable, in her eyes," Dumbledore answered, his eyes twinkling as he watched a look of relief crossed the younger man's face. "She said that it certainly made some things a lot clearer for her, and she's going to investigate into our claims."  
  
Remus looked into the fireplace warily, wondering what she was planning to do. "Investigate? How so?"  
  
"She is going to interview Sirius."  
  
"Are sure that she can do that?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow and frowning at the same time.  
  
"She is the head of one of the most important departments in the Ministry, Remus, she can do it, I assure you. Besides, she has her ways," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again. "As I know you already know."  
  
Remus grinned. Colette was a surprisingly good actress, and often used her stunning looks and acting abilities to get herself places that   
other people might not normally be able to get to-providing it was all legal, of course. He nodded.  
  
*It's no use worrying, * he told himself. *Albus is right. If anyone can do it, it's her. *  
  
"Well, I'd better be leaving now," Dumbledore said, smiling at Remus. "Arthur has been looking for me, and I need to get back to him. I'll keep in touch as soon as I hear anything." And with *pop*, he was gone.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
Harry spent most of the rest of his day at Sirius's bedside, either talking with Sirius, watching him sleep, or often dozing off himself. In one conversation, Harry talked about how his life had been going since Sirius had left the night of the third task. (In which Sirius had said, "Hey, I did promise I would see you again soon, didn't I? And-ha! Lo and behold! Here I am, talking to you! I can foretell the future! But don't go comparing me to Trelawny, kid," he had added as he grinned at his godson with a twinkle in his eye. "Because I'm an Animagus, and she doesn't need to be able to change her shape to look like a dragonfly.")  
  
In another conversation, Harry showed him one of "Gred and Forge's" trick wands, which he loved. In yet another, he was inspired by the previous conversation to launch into the story of Dudley and the Ton Toungue Toffees. Sirius loved this one especially. But in none of the conversations did Harry tell his godfather about the dream that he had had, the one about Southampton-the one that had turned out to be true. Both of them had been carefully avoiding the topic of the trial-even though they knew they had to address it eventually-and talking about normal, non-stressful things. *Sirius already had a lot to worry about, * Harry had thought. *Why worry him with something else? *  
  
In the conversation that was occurring in present times, Harry was telling Sirius something that he would never even dream about telling Ron: the feelings he was beginning have about Ginny.  
  
As Harry had explained-with a bit of a blush in his face-how he was feeling, Sirius grinned at him as he listened. When Harry was done, he told him, "Well, I can't say that I'm surprised, because I'm not."  
  
"You're...not?" Harry asked, watching Sirius warily as he wondered what he was up to.  
  
"Nope," Sirius said, looking at Harry with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I knew it was just a matter of time before you began to notice her."  
  
"You...did?" This startling bit of information seemed to have left Harry with the inability to say sentences that consisted of more than two words. Sirius laughed.  
  
"Yep," Sirius said, still grinning, and leaned forward so that he was closer to Harry. Harry moved closer to the bed. "You see, Harry, the Potter men have a...er...thing for redheads."  
  
"We...do?" Harry said, staring blankly at Sirius.  
  
"Eureka, I think he's got it!" Sirius said. Then he smiled, leaned back, closed his eyes, and let out an enormous (and enormously fake) snore.  
  
"Sirius!" Harry laughed. Quickly snapping out of his two-words-per-sentence curse, he nudged Sirius in the shoulder. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Sirius gave another snore.  
  
Harry waited patiently for Sirius to "wake up" with his chin resting in his hand. After a couple of minutes and several more fake snores, Sirius opened a single eye and directed it to Harry. Smiling even wider than before, he opened both of his eyes and sat up.   
  
"Harry..." He said slowly, still smiling. "The Potter men *love* redheads. Your mother was a redhead. Your grandmother was a redhead. And, unless I'm mistaken, I seem to remember your father saying something about your great grandmother being a redhead."  
  
Harry stared at him. "Are you serious? You're not joking? Really?"  
  
Sirius nodded, his expression very grave and serious. After a moment of staring at each other in that way, both of them burst out laughing at the same time.  
  
"I can't believe that!" Harry said after their laughing began to subside. "No wonder you weren't surprised-that's really strange!"  
  
"Well, your family is very strange, Harry, no denying it, and you and your father are no exceptions," Sirius said teasingly. Harry laughed again and then sighed. Despite the situation, he found that he was feeling very content with the world.  
  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Harry looked at Sirius curiously. Sirius gave Harry a quick nod, frowning slightly, and so Harry called out, "Er...come in."  
  
The door opened, and in walked one of the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen. For a second there he was sure that she must be a veela, for her long blonde hair, ice blue eyes, pale skin and tall stature all seemed very familiar. His conversation with Sirius about Ginny that had occurred only minutes before almost forgotten, he stared up at her for a moment with his mouth slightly open, not sure of what to do when an alarmingly beautiful women walked into your godfather's hospital room. Then, something very unexpected happened.  
  
"C-Colette?" Sirius said in amazement, staring at the women in the doorway. "What...what..."  
  
"Hello, Sirius," This woman named Colette said smoothly, smiling in a way that Harry was sure would make Ron positively melt. "And you..." She turned to Harry, who remembered that his mouth was still open and quickly shut it with a snap. "You must be Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."  
  
Now that he had come to his senses, Harry felt confused. "Um...hi," He said awkwardly, then looked back at Sirius. "What...?"  
  
"My name is Colette Villons," She said, answering the unspoken question and moving swiftly across the room to sit in the chair next to Harry. "I'm the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sirius, I am assuming you remember me?"  
  
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Harry's head was swimming. He wanted to ask Sirius what was going on, but instead Sirius was talking to Colette.   
  
"Yes, I remember you," He said slowly while looking at her carefully. He was obviously as confused as Harry was. "But...what are you doing here?"  
  
"I listened to your story from Albus Dumbledore earlier this afternoon, Sirius. It seems very believable to me, but I would like to ask you and others some questions first. But, if everything goes as I expect it to, I am prepared to be completely behind you the whole way when it comes to receiving your trial or not."  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open again. Just like that? She was going to defend him...just like that?  
  
"I would like to get on with the interviewing process as quickly as possible. So...if you wouldn't mind stepping out for a bit, Harry..."  
  
"Oh!" Harry said, and he felt himself blushing a little. "Of course. Right." Harry hurried out of the room with a final glance at Sirius. He could hardly believe what had just happened. Maybe...just maybe, with Colette's help...maybe everything could be okay.  
  
Harry ran off to find Hermione and the Weasleys.  
  
  
  
A/N: This is by far the most complicated story I have ever written. There are so many things going on in it! I mean, I'll be almost done writing a chapter, then I'll remember another bit of the plotline and realize that I forgot to put that in the chapter! Oy...well, everything's going more or less smoothly, so far.  
  
I wrote this whole chapter-all almost eight pages of it-in less than a day, and let me tell you, I am very tired of sitting at the computer. I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible, though, because I know you guys have been waiting two weeks for this chapter. I don't think I'm going to be able to get chapter 13 out before school starts-I have so many things to do-and then we'll just have to wait and see. I doubt that I'll get a lot of homework in the first couple of days at school, but I'll probably get an idea of how much work I'll be receiving over the year, so then I can hopefully say how often updates will come. They won't come as often as they did in the summer, obviously, and how often they come all depends on how much free time I'll have on my hands. Because it's not just schoolwork I'm thinking about, but also other stuff: I'm doing this stuff with my Hebrew school-Thursday evenings and Sunday mornings-I'm probably joining this teen theater thingy, and there's all this other extra stuff at my new school. Plus, there are so many things that I WANT to do, but probably won't-join a soccer team, re-take up piano lessons, and tons of other stuff. Hehe...if you haven't already noticed, I'm very ambitious. And now I need to start thinking about all this new stuff-like what'll impress colleges-ah! I don't know whether you readers are older or younger than I am, but if your older: You probably know what I'm talking about. If your younger...Godspeed. :)  
  
Hmm...I really did get off subject there, didn't I? I do that a lot...well, back to reality: How did you guys all like my Remus? Think I'm doing him sort of well? Or no? Criticism, please! I know I didn't really portray him very much in this chapter, but oh, well...  
  
I've been having a lot of fun developing Colette. In case you guys haven't guessed already, she's going to play an important part in the story. Did her reflections after Dumbledore told her that he needed help with Sirius's case seem too long? I just felt like it needed some explaining behind it, her take on things.  
  
Did Sirius's and Harry's conversation in this chapter seem a bit too cheesy-ish? Like, fake or corny? I don't know...  
  
  
Wellduh...: Yeah, I knew that you would like this chapter! Thanks a lot! I'm glad that you liked it, I wasn't sure if it was bit too rushed.  
  
Celestial princess: Actually, I think 521 just sort of came into my head, but I was probably connecting it semi-consciously to that...er...incident. I actually like that idea about Fudge! I think I'll use that somewhere! Lol thanks Dena!  
  
Gloriaklompen: Haha it's alright...I review your story when I get around to it, which will be soon, hopefully. Thanks...yeah, Dena really does like that line!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: I liked this chapter a lot too, you think it's one of my best? That's so cool! It was a heck of a chapter to write, I can tell you that much. I'm glad that you liked my Sirius...when I started writing that chapter, I wasn't sure how well he was going to go, but I kind of just fell into portraying him that way, very naturally-sort of like an instinct, you know?  
  
Lady Gabriella of Queenscove: Yeah, Fudge is a jerk in my story, I hate him more than Snape as well, probably. I mean, Snape at least doesn't turn all these ridiculous blind eyes, and he knows reality. Malfoy...I still haven't totally decided what I think of him yet...  
  
Gengi: Yikes I hope your computer problems work out! Harry's dream...very metaphorical and has a lot of symbolism, you know what I mean? It's one of those things where you need to "read between the lines," so to speak. I did have a happy, fun, and safe trip! Yay! 


	13. The New Threat

Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? and 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!  
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!  
  
  
A/N: Yet another conflict introduced in this chapter. *sigh* Honestly, I should just change the name of this story to "One of the Most Complicated Stories That Has Ever Been in the Harry Potter Section on FanFiction.Net and the Author is Having a Heck of a Time Writing It." By the way, when I say that I'm having a heck of a time writing this, that's true, but in a good way-this is so much fun to write, but it's also getting hard!  
  
  
  
Chapter Thirteen-The New Threat  
  
  
  
*Outside the Leaky Cauldron, thirty minutes earlier*  
  
  
  
Colette Villons swiftly left the Leaky Cauldron, her head buzzing with the story she had just heard, told to her by Albus Dumbledore. She could hardly believe the story, it was so incredibly different from what she had formerly believed to be true, and was almost too complex to be considered reality. But still...she couldn't *not* believe it, when she considered how realistic it could be when looked at in the right way, and how much sense it made, and how many confusions it cleared up for her...  
  
She still couldn't get it completely through her head that Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather. His godfather! Who would ever guess? But when Dumbledore had told her the events that occurred that night in the Shrieking Shack, and what had happened afterwards, and how Harry had kept up a correspondance with Black since, it all made perfect sense about why him-and his friends Weasley and Granger-were trying to defend Black so badly. Also that whole Animagus business explained how Black escaped from Azkaban, and how he had been so hard to capture since. Plus, that whole thing about Peter Pettigrew being Ron Weasley's rat-it all made perfect, logical sense. But, still, there was a few things that she wanted to check out: She wanted primary sources, not secondary sources.  
  
As Colette leaned against the wall of a Muggle store not far from the Leaky Cauldron, she thought about how the story had affected her emotionally. It was of murder, while being betrayed by someone he trusted. Losing two of his best friends and his godson. And then...how Harry must have felt that night...he was about to go live with his godfather, and then the traitor escaped again and Fudge screwed everything up...  
  
Colette swallowed down the lump that was threatening to rise in her throat, and blinked furiously. She was not one that was usually sentimental, because in her line of work she came across a great number of very sad stories that had occurred, usually a long time ago. But this story in particular had touched her in a way that few other stories had. Maybe because it's events were not only more recent-but happening right that minute-or because she was playing a part in the outcome of the unfinished story, or maybe just because she felt personally connected.  
  
Because she had known Sirius Black. They had become friendly with each other after Colette moved to England--following her graduation from Beauxbatons at the age of seventeen-and had met him at the English ministry. Although he was a good three or so years older than her, they had quickly grown to like each other, but they had kept their friendly relationship on the level of acquantincess at work. She had met him only months before the downfall of Voldemort-and his sentence to Azkaban. Colette had been downright shocked when she found out that he "had been working for the Dark Lord." He had always seemed to her as simply a fun-loving, kind man, working hard with others in the magical community's times of great need. She had believed what the newspapers said, however, and had tried to forget her short and mild friendship with him. But now...  
  
Colette stood up straight, pulling herself out of her memories as she remembered that she had promised Dumbledore that she would interview Black. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she hurried down the London streets until she came to a building that was only seen by magical eyes-St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She stopped outside the entrance, taking a deep breath and carefully combing her hair with her fingers.  
  
She knew very well what Dumbledore had implied that she do to be allowed to see Black. To "strut her stuff," so to speak. Pretend to be a good-looking, sophisticated, and powerful woman who wanted to be shown to a patient's room. Pretend to be someone manipulative, domineering, and imposing actions upon others. Pretend to be someone that she was not. In other words, be an actress.  
  
Surprisingly, it didn't take much of Colette "strutting her stuff" to be allowed to go to room 521. After explaining in a voice quite unlike her own who she was and what she wanted to do, all she had to do was flip her hair a few times, grin and wink at the man at the desk who just stood and watched her, and soon she was on the fifth floor, standing in front of the room occupied by Sirius Black.  
  
If she was brutally honest with herself, she was a little nervous. She had not talked to Black in almost fourteen years, and she wasn't even sure if he would remember her after all this time and all that he had been through since they had last talked. But, she remembered him, and a part of her was relieved that there was a probable story for Black being innocent for two reasons: she had liked him from the start, and she didn't like the idea that she could so easily become friendly with someone who was a servant of Voldemort.  
  
Pausing for a moment before opening the door to room 521, she stopped to listen to the murmer of voices inside the room. Although she couldn't make out what they were saying, she could tell that one of the voices was distinctly a boy, a teenager. Was it Harry Potter's voice, perhaps? The other voice had a deep, masculine sound to it. Even though she couldn't make out what it was saying, she could tell that it was very kind, and had a teasing ring to it. Black's.  
  
She was about to knock on the door when suddenly there was a loud burst of laughter from inside the room. Startled, she pulled back, her hand moving away from the door so fast that it could seem to someone that the door must have given her an electric shock of some sort, for her to move away so quickly.  
  
She waited patiently for their laughter to die down, until there was a pause in the sound that was coming from the room. Silence. Not wanting to stall any more time and possibly lose her nerve, Colette quickly lifted her hand and knocked.  
  
There was a pause, and then she heard the boyish voice call out, "Er...come in."  
  
Colette turned the knob and opened the door the door. The first thing that she saw of the room was the face of Sirius Black staring at her from where he lay on the bed. She started. He looked so...different. He was considerably thinner, and was unnaturally pale. His face was a good deal gaunter than she remembered, and, there was something about his eyes that unnerved Colette a great deal.  
  
Then she noticed the boy that was sitting next to Sirius's bedside. A boy with messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes. He was staring up at her with his mouth slightly open, but she didn't pay attention. She was used to those type of reactions from the male spieces. Colette knew immediately, from seeing his picture in the Daily Prophet, that this was Harry Potter.  
  
"C-Colette?" Sirius sputtered, staring at Colette with wide eyes, forcing her to turn away from staring at the teenage boy at his side. "What...what..."  
  
Swallowing down her emotions, she gave a swift, flashing smile. "Hello, Sirius," she replied smoothly, pretending to give him a quick once-over. He however, didn't seem to notice, and she continued to speak. "And you..." She turned to the boy, who shut his mouth with a snap. "You must be Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."  
  
Suppressing a smile at Harry's reaction to her entrance, she watched him awkwardly say, "Um...hi." He turned to his godfather. "What...?"  
  
"My name is Colette Villons," Colette said quickly, and walked across the room to sit in the seat next to Harry. After explaining who she was and making sure that Sirius remembered her, Colette kindly asked Harry to leave so she could ask Sirius some questions. After the door closed behind him, Colette turned to Sirius, who now not only looked surprised-but also happy, skeptical, and even a little suspicious.  
  
There was a moment of silence. Colette seemed to be waiting for Sirius to speak first. Sirius seemed to be waiting for Colette to speak first. Finally, Sirius opened his mouth.  
  
"Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, huh? Wow, that's...wow." He said, raising an eyebrow at her slightly. "I didn't realize that it was you who took over after Crouch. You sure do move up the ranks, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose," Colette said carefully, watching her old acquantince warily. "This isn't a visit for pleasure, Sirius. I want to ask you some questions-"  
  
"Well, first, I have a question for you," Sirius interrupted smoothly, bringing a harrased frown onto her face. She hated being interrupted. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Colette blinked. "I said, I'm here to ask you questions-"  
  
"I know what you said," Sirius interrupted once again, waving his hand in the air. A burst of annoyance washed over her at being cut off again, but she grinded her teeth together and restrained from saying anything. *If you let him finish, he'll stop interrupting you,* Colette thought, and forced herself to relax.  
  
"But that doesn't explain what you are doing here," He continued, either demonstrating acting abilities or really not noticing Colette's annoyance as he went on speaking. "Or, more precisely, why you are here. How come you've suddenly taken an interest in me? You didn't take an interest in me when I when I was admitted into the hospital...or fourteen years ago," He added dryly, eyeing Colette with such intuitive in a way that made her uncomfortable.  
  
"Because, Black, things have changed now," Colette replied cooly as she regained her composure, carefully using his last name in an effective way. Sirius's eyes flickered for a moment, but he said nothing. "Now, if you'll just let me-"  
  
"What's changed?"  
  
Sirius was beginning to get on Colette's last nerve. Grinding and curling her toungue against her hard pallate in irritation, she thinned her lips into a narrow line and frowned at Sirius. After a moment, she opened her mouth to speak-the thought had occurred to her that Sirius had a right to know why she was there. Colette sighed. She hated admitting that he was right.   
  
To Sirius, Colette looked as if she was having some sort of internal struggle. Yet again, Sirius raised his eyebrow at her. Colette glanced at him, saw his expression, and shook her head in a mixture of amusement, anger, and exasperation. Sirius Black sure could be exshausting at times.  
  
"The thing is..." Colette began hesitantly, chewing on her bottom lip. For some reason, she didn't really want to tell Sirius that she had only begun to seriously consider his side of the story that very morning, that she had believed him to be a murderer for almost fourteen years, and that she still wasn't one hundred percent sure that he was one hundred percent innocent.  
  
"The thing is..." Sirius prompted her on, watching her carefully.  
  
"It wasn't until this morning that Albus Dumbledore brought it to my attention that there is a possibility that you are innocent," Colette let out in a rush, and then she shifted in her chair. She didn't remember ever feeling this uncomfortable for a long time.  
  
Sirius nodded. He didn't look surprised in the least, but there was a very small trace of sadness on his face.  
  
"That's the case for quite a few people, not finding out the truth until recently, that is," He said heavily. "Harry himself only found out slightly over a year ago at Hogwarts..."  
  
"Yes, I know, Dumbledore told me everything."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"So do you believe my story? Do you think that it's true?" What Sirius was really asking, although not putting into words, was, "Do you believe me to be a murderer who killed twelve innocent Muggles and betrayed his best friends?"  
  
Now it was Colette's turn to sigh, as she deftly avoided his piercing gaze. "I...well, I..." She sighed again. "I honestly don't know, Sirius. I don't know what to believe...I want to believe you, Sirius, I really do, but I just need more justification than what Dumbledore said. I want primary sources, and physical evidence, if that's possible."  
  
"There is no physical evidence," Sirius said dully. "If there was, I wouldn't be under hospital arrest. I'm not allowed to leave this room, do you know that? I can't leave this *room.* If there was physical evidence, I would be a free man in a home with Harry. But the only physical evidence turned into the rat he is and disappeared that night at Hogwarts."  
  
Colette bit her lip, feeling truly sorry for the pale, thin man lying in a hospital bed in front of her. She wanted it to be true, but she still wasn't positive. She lived by the rule that she didn't believe it until she could see it, but that didn't seem to be working here...  
  
"I'm here to ask you questions," Colette said softly. "And see if there's any way that I can help you."  
  
Sirius looked up, startled. "Help me?"  
  
  
"Yes," Colette said, looking at him curiously. She had thought that he had already guessed that she was going to try to i help him. "Dumbledore and I both believe that my position in the Ministry can affect whether your having a trial or not, and a fair one at that."  
  
Sirius sat up, suddenly looking very excited. "So your going to fight for me?"  
  
"That all depends, Sirius, on how well you *cooperate.* Now, if you would be ever so cooperative, I would like to ask you some questions."  
  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
*The Riddle House, 1:00 A.M. the next morning*  
  
  
Peter Pettigrew sat in the corner of a large, empty room. Every once in a while he rubbed his shadowed eyes wearily, and was muttering softly to himself about why he was there.  
  
"Master called a meeting...why did Master call a meeting? I'm tired...it's the middle of the night...I need sleep...why did Master call a meeting?"  
  
Pettigrew was *not* in a good mood. He'd gotten very little sleep the past few days after the Death Eater "attack" in Southampton--which had failed horribly. And he was receiving some of the blame. Now, Voldemort had called a meeting for the Death Eaters in the Conference Room at the Riddle House in the middle of the night.  
  
Lucius Malfoy had come up with the idea of calling this room the "Conference Room." Pettigew, personally, didn't like it. He thought it sounded too comfortable and homey for a very big room that had absolutely no furniture-or anything at all-in it. The room looked cold and uninviting, and it hardly deserved the name that had been given to it...but Pettigrew didn't dare argue with Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Any minute now, Death Eaters would be Apparating from all over the country. Pettigrew looked around the room carefully, his quick eyes ready to focus on any sound or movement.   
  
Suddenly, there was a small *pop* sound in the other corner of the room. Pettigrew was startled, the Death Eaters usually Apparated into the center of the room-that was precisely the reason why Pettigrew was huddled in a corner. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to identify the man who was hidden under a black hood. The hood turned his way, and underneath it Pettigrew saw icy cold blue eyes. He shivered. Those eyes belonged to none other than Lucius Malfoy. Pettigrew didn't like Lucius all that much, he found him to be very harsh. He seemed worse than he had been fourteen years ago, for some reason.  
  
Malfoy moved slowly to the other side of the room, not paying any attention whatsoever to Pettigrew, and the other man chose to watch him comfortably from a distance...although he made sure not to watch him too much, he would hate to be reprimanded by him. It had happened before. As he recalled the memory, Pettigrew once again gave a shiver.  
  
Soon, Death Eaters were appearing left and right. Over the next few minutes, they arrived one by one, Apparating from their comfortable homes into the cold, dark room. Pettigrew continued to lurk in the corner.  
  
Once all the loyal and faithful Death Eaters had arrived, they all gathered around in a circle in the center of the room, Pettigrew finally joining them as he fidgeted with the hem of his robes. Directly across from the single door in the room, the Death Eaters left a gap in the circle. Nobody said a word. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, until the old door creaked open, and they all turned to watch their master walk inside.  
  
Voldemort walked into the room and moved through the gap and into the middle of the circle. The two Death Eaters who had been on either side of the gap moved closer together, closing the circle. All the Death Eaters still stood silent, watching their master. Voldemort looked around at them all, and then gave a grin that looked quite frightening.  
  
"I've called you all here this morning," He began in a strong voice. *That's right,* Pettigrew thought sourly. *It's after twelve o'clock. It's morning.* "Because I have a plan."  
  
A plan? The Death Eaters stirred, stealing glances at each other. What sort of plan?  
  
"A plan that greatly involves you, Wormtail," Voldemort continued, ignoring the movement. "But also involves the rest of you."  
  
Pettigrew gave an involuntary gulp, swallowing hard. He wondered how it involved, because the last time he talked about a plan in the middle of the night, Pettigrew had ended up having his right hand cut off...Pettigrew stopped his train of thought right there. *No,* He thought firmly. *That wasn't a sacrifice. Master gave me a wonderful reward for my loyalty.*  
  
"Our last plan failed," Voldemort said in a terrible, cold voice, looking around at the Death Eaters who had been involved in the plan carried out in Southampton. "The plan that could have captured Sirius Black. The plan that could have resulted in Black giving us valuable information, and the plan that would have eliminated one of the people who's been watching over Harry Potter the most."  
  
As he spoke, Voldemort's voice rose in a crescendo and got louder and louder until it filled the whole room with it's sound. Pettigrew flinched slightly.  
  
"And it's very good, for all of you involved in that failure, that the Ministry of Magic believes it to not be an attack by us, and have no way connected it to the capture of Sirius Black. But, now, I have another plan, although it doesn't involve capturing Black. It involves changing the past."  
  
The Death Eaters stirred again, this time a bit uneasily. Voldemort patiently waited for them to be silent, letting the effect of his words truly sink in. Pettigrew was beginning to feel nervous. Time travel? What?  
  
Voldemort reached into the deep folds and pockets of his robes and, after a moment, pulled out two enormous Time Turners, both the size of a small book.  
  
"These," He said softly, holding them very carefully and gazing at them with a sort of reverance. "These are Time Turners that don't time travel in hours, days, weeks, and even months. These travel years." Suddenly, his head jerked up, and he turned to Pettigrew.   
  
"Wormtail!" Voldemort said sharply. Pettigrew inwardly cowered, but physically showed nothing. "Have you guessed what I plan to use these for?"  
  
Not trusting himself to speak because he was so overcome with anxiousness, Pettigrew tentavley shook his head.  
  
"I didn't expect you to," His master said softly, then he grinned a terrible grin that would have terrified most people of the world out of their wits.  
  
"Wormtail, you and I are going to travel back in time almost fourteen years to Halloween, 1981. Do you know what happened Halloween, 1981?"  
  
Pettigrew's head was buzzing, and the familiar date sparked a series of memories inside of him. His eyes widened as he realized exactly what his master was telling him.  
  
"Do you mean to say..." He said slowly. "That we are going to change time?"  
  
"Yes, Wormtail! Yes!" Voldemort cried. "We are going to make sure that I was never defeated, and that I continued my reign of ultimate power! And also..." He sneered suddenly. "We are going to make sure that Harry Potter and Sirius Black never get to see the dawn of November first."  
  
The Death Eaters broke into applause. Their laughter and sounds of cheer carried and echoed all throughout the Riddle House, unheard by anyone other than themselves, and drifted out into the night.  
  
  
  
A/N: Oh my gosh you guys must be so angry at me! I'm sorry this took so long! I think I developed some sort of mental block against this chapter or something, and on top that there's school and stuff...whatever it was, this took forever for me to write. (Hey, maybe it was bad luck 13!) :) I don't know how often updates are going to come these days. Definitely not as much as they did before-every three days or so-but I can't really say when they'll come out. It depends on a lot of stuff.  
  
Man, I've been working on this chapter for over a week-almost two-and it's not even that great, either...the beginning doesn't seem to be going ANYWHERE, the end seems too rushed, Voldemort seems too calm. Oy, and the end scene just seems sort of wrong. I don't like this chapter very much.  
  
I can compare Out of the Night to a sort of very demented tree: It doesn't have a trunk, just a heck of a lot of branches that each represent a plotline. Conflicts abound in this story, huh?  
  
CariW: Thanks so much! I haven't really decided on what exactly is Colette's and Sirius's relationship. I have considered romance, but I don't know at this point.   
  
Rozebunny: Thanks! I'm really glad that so many people like it!  
  
Neutral: Haha! There you are! Yep, I'm back, have been back... I'm glad that you see how complicated this is becoming...the Grand Central Station for conflicts, eh? I did have a lot of fun with Harry and Sirius's conversation...in my mind, I'm having no trouble portraying Sirius at all, and I'm glad that you think I'm doing a good job. Doesn't Sirius rock?  
  
I haven't been reviewing Clawtracks of a Star lately! Now I'm the one who's sorry! I tried to review the tenth chapter about four or five times when I came home, but my computer was pissed at me for some reason and kept on crashing...I haven't had the patience since...I'll get around to it at some point. :)  
I had a great trip...I go up to this retreat sort of thingy in New Hampshire every year-my family had been going there since the fifties-and I love it there. You've probably never been to the northeast, considering that you live in the west...but heck what do I know? I'm judging from my own experience that I've never been farther west than Baltimore or Philadelphia-which ever is the farthest west, I'm too lazy to look at map.  
  
Yuffie-Girl: I did like Harry's and Sirius's conversation about Ginny, if I do say so myself. :)  
  
Gengi: Thank ya, thank ya very much! Haha, maybe you should email FanFiction.Net because of that problem with your name...there's definitely something going on with your computer or something. 


	14. Meetings and More Meetings

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, never has been mine, and never will be mine. The only thing I own in this story is Colette Villons. Get the picture?  
  
  
A/N: I have found almost no time for me to be able to work on this story...man, school is hard! Finding time, inspiration, and my writing-Out-of-the-Night-mood all at the same time is not easy. This took forever to get out, didn't it? Now you're all going to come attack me with a kitchen knife...  
  
  
  
Chapter Fourteen-Meetings and More Meetings  
  
  
  
  
For the next hour, Harry sat out in the waiting room with Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione as Colette interviewed Sirius. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Percy were still out looking for each other and Professor Dumbledore.  
  
When Harry told them all about how Colette was going to try and help Sirius, their reactions were the same as Harry had expected that they would be, even though they were all exhausted after sitting in the waiting room for hours. Hermione and Ron especially were ecstatic, because they knew Sirius best. Fred, George, and Ginny were all very happy, but since they didn't know the entire story they couldn't fully appreciate everything.  
  
They didn't know everything...Harry suddenly looked up from where he had been staring at the floor, grinning, his eyes shining as he looked at Fred, George, and Ginny. Ron had informed Harry earlier that he had only told his parents everything that was in Sirius's story, and the rest of the Weasley children didn't know that Sirius was an Animagus, or anything about the Marauders. All of a sudden, Harry couldn't wait to tell them, and he imagined how Fred and George would react when they heard that Harry's godfather-plus his father and their old professor-were the former mischeif makers of Hogwarts.  
  
"Fred, George, Ginny," Harry began slowly. "I think it's about time I tell you something."  
  
Ron and Hermione looked their friend curiously. Harry looked back at them, carefully choosing his next words.  
  
"*We* tell you something," Harry corrected himself, nodding at Ron and Hermione. "About Sirius." Although Ron was looking more perplexed by the second, Hermione's eyes were bright with recognition.  
  
"What about him?" All three of them asked together. Harry grinned again, and then he plunged into the story (with help from Ron and Hermione) of how Remus Lupin's lycanthropy had caused him and his three friends to become Animagi, how they had become the Marauders, and made the Maruader's Map. Also about how Peter Pettigrew escaped that one Halloween, how he had been Scabbers, and about Sirius's recent year at Hogwarts.  
  
By the time they had finished, Ginny was staring at her brother with her mouth hanging open, and Fred and George had expressions on their faces that were clearly of disbelief.  
  
"Are you saying that *Peter Pettigew* was *Scabbers?*" George asked incredulously, his eyes wide with astonishment.  
  
"And that your dad and Sirius are Animagi?" Fred added, his expression identical to his twin's.  
  
"And that *they* were they the Marauders?"  
  
"And *Professor Lupin* was one of the Marauders?"  
  
"*And they made the Maruader's Map?*"  
  
"Yep," Harry said, grinning. He was about to go into the details of the Marauder's time in Hogwarts-namely, all the pranks that they played-and also maybe pull Ron aside and tell him about Colette, when Hermione timidly spoke up.  
  
"Harry?" She asked quietly, and a bit shyly. "Can Ron and I...er...see Sirius? If that's alright?"  
  
Harry looked at her, and a lightbulb seemed to light in his head. Of course...Ron and Hermione...they had known Sirius as long as he had, and they have been really patient all day...they should see Sirius, they have a granted right, after all...  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow at his friend, and then at Ron who had sat up in his chair a little and was watching Harry expectantly.   
  
"And who am I to say that you can't?" Harry said slowly, watching them with a small smile on his face. "Of course you can. We'll just go see if Colette is finished interviewing him yet... you guys can come too, if you want." He added to Fred, George, and Ginny. They glanced at each other.  
  
"No, I'll think we'll wait for the time being," Ginny said firmly, although the twins looked very anxious to meet one of the Marauders. "You guys go ahead."  
  
Harry smiled at her, and once again felt his insides squirming. He couldn't help notice how her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. In fact, he couldn't imagine how he had never noticed how pretty her eyes were before...a bright and sparkly blue...that brightened when she smiled...  
  
Harry quickly turned away as the blush rose in his face so that Ron wouldn't notice. Ron, however, seemed to notice that something was going on-whether it completely processed inside his brain or not-and he staring at his sister with a little frown on his face. Harry swiftly reached forward, wrapped his hand around Ron's wrist in a single movement, and gently pulled him towards the waiting room door where Hermione was already waiting.  
  
"Well-I guess I'll see you guys later-um-bye-" Ron spluttered as Harry began to pull him more forcefully out of the waiting room.  
  
"Bye!" Fred and George called in unison. "See you," Ginny added before Hermione closed the door after Harry and Ron. Ron yanked his wrist out of Harry's grip, giving him a strange look.  
  
"What's up with you?" He asked, raising his eyebrow and glancing at Hermione as if for support. "You act like there's something in the waiting room that you wanted to get me away from."  
  
"Yeah, well, you wanted to see Sirius, didn't you?" Harry said cheerfully, and turned to walk towards room 521.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but-"  
  
"It doesn't matter, Ron," Hermione said briskly. "Just...come on." She nodded at Harry, who was already halfway down the hallway. Ron gave her a scrutinizing look and hurried to catch up with his friend. Hermione brought up the rear, shaking her head slightly and smiling. Unlike Ron, she had begun to interpret the glances Harry and Ginny had been giving each other.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was standing outside Sirius's door, waiting for his two friends to catch up with him. When they did that, he knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," Sirius's voice called.  
  
Harry opened the door just a little bit and poked his head into the room, then opened it all the way and walked in, with Ron and Hermione coming in cautiously behind him.  
  
"Where's Colette?" Harry asked, looking around the room.  
  
"She left just a few minutes ago," Sirius answered from where he was sitting up in his bed. He looked around at the two people behind Harry, and his face broke into a grin. "Ron! Hermione! Long time, no see!"  
  
"Hi, Sirius," Hermione said, smiling. She came forward from behind Harry and sat down in one of the chairs near Sirius's bedside. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Alright," He answered, giving her a small smile. Then he looked from Hermione to Ron, then back to Hermione. His smile turned into a teasing grin. "I was wondering if you two forgot about me."  
  
"Of course we didn't forget about you!" Hermione chided him playfully. "We...just...well...we just..."  
  
"Uh-huh. Right," He turned to Harry and said in a very loud mock whisper to him, "They forgot about me!" Harry grinned, and then Sirius began to talk to Ron over Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Ron," He said, tilting his head slightly so that he could see the tall redheaded boy. "How are you doing?"  
  
"How am *I* doing? Your asking *me* how *I'm* doing? I'm not the one who's lying in a hospital bed, Sirius, and your asking me how I'm doing?" Ron asked incredulously, raising his eyebrow at Harry's godfather much in the same way he had done to Harry. Sirius laughed out loud, a sight that made Harry's face brighten considerably.  
  
"Right you are, Ron, right you are," Sirius said, winking at Harry and Hermione. "Now, aren't you guys going to ask me what happened with Colette?"  
  
"I was just about to get to that," Harry said, moving to sit down next to Hermione. "So, what did happen, Sirius? And also, how do you know her in the first place?"  
  
"Let's see..." Sirius said thoughtfully, leaning back against his pillows. "How do I know her...well, I met her shortly before your parents died, Harry. Through my work at the Ministry of Magic."  
  
"You worked at the Ministry?" Harry interrupted in surprise, staring at Sirius.  
  
"Yep," Sirius said, glancing at Harry. "Colette and I were both working our way up in the Departement of Magical Law Enforcment. I never told you that?"  
  
Harry slowly shook his head, still staring at his godfather. "Magical law enforcment?"  
  
"Yeah," Sirius nodded, and then he grinned grimly. "Ironic, huh?"  
  
There was a short pause. Ron and Hermione gave each other slightly uncomfortable glances before Sirius continued.  
  
"Anyway, we both worked together in the months before Voldemort's downfall. We became friends, though we never really saw each other outside of work...she's a few years younger than me, you know," Sirius added. "And there were so many things going on at the time...well, you guys already know about that."  
  
All three of the teenagers nodded in unison.  
  
"Well, that's how I know her. Now, onto the other part of your question: What happened."  
  
Harry unconsciously leaned forward in his seat with his eyes fixed intently on his godfather.  
  
"Apparently, Dumbledore pulled her aside only this morning to ask if she could investigate my case, and see if she wanted to help prove my innocence. To be honest with you guys, she wasn't really sure about anything. She didn't know whether to trust me or not," Sirius's eyes flickered for a moment, but the only one who noticed was Hermione, who gave him a slightly puzzled look before focusing again on the story. "So she gave me an interview just to make sure, to prove to herself that I am innocent." Sirius paused, and sighed.  
  
"Well?' Harry and Ron prompted him together. Sirius grinned again.  
  
"Well...she believes me."  
  
"*Yes!*" Harry gasped, jumping to his feet. Hermione clapped her hands together and jumped up as well, but Ron just stared at him from where he was leaning against the wall.  
  
"You mean it? She's going to try and prove your case?"  
  
"Yep," Sirius said proudly.  
  
For a fleeting instant, Harry suddenly had the urge to hug Sirius as tight as he could. It was a feeling that he had only had a few times before-the most recent example was when Dobby had helped him before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament-and sometimes directed to Ron and Hermione, but never to Sirius. It was a strange feeling, something that Harry was unaccustomed to, and he didn't know how to react to it. For a moment he paused, unsure, but the moment passed, leaving him feeling very confused.  
  
"It took a little work on my part, I can tell you that much," Sirius admittedly continued. "I had to tell her everything, the whole nine yards-and obviously, that took a while-and then we just talked about the case, and she decided that I was telling the truth."  
  
"So what is she going to do?" Harry asked excitedly, for since the moment had passed he was feeling more like himself. "How is she going to do this?"  
  
"Well, first she's going to tell Dumbledore her decision. Then, she's going to ask around the Ministry to see who might be interested in working with her on our case. All the while, she's going to try to tackle the Fudge issue. We'll just have to see what the outcome of those things are, then we'll build on what happens after that. You three are going to have to be witnesses for the trial, you know," He added.  
  
"So there is going to be a trial?" Ron asked him, looking a little confused. "Not just a hearing, or an investigation into the case?"  
  
"Oh no, Ron, there is definitely going to be a trial. This is *big*, no doubt about it. There is definitely going to be a trial. Colette confirmed it."  
  
"I expected that," Hermione nodded knowingly.  
  
"You did?" Ron looked at her, half of his expression showing surprise and the other half basically saying, "*Why* am I not surprised?"  
  
"Of course," Hermione said, visibly regaining her superior attitude, making Sirius grin again. "There would have to be a trial. This is huge, like Sirius said. There's no way that this would get a mere hearing."  
  
Sirius nodded. "She's right, you know. And, Hermione..." He looked at her thoughtfully. "I have a feeling that you are going to play a big part in this, somehow. You seem to have the habit of reading between the lines, and that can become very useful when it comes to things dealing with the law, and seperating truth from lies. You're going to do something, Hermione. I can feel it."  
  
Hermione looked half surprised, half flattered. After a moment, she had just opened her mouth to speak when the sound of three surprised yells from somewhere on the floor filled the air. She, Ron, Harry, and Sirius all froze, Hermione's mouth still open. A few seconds later, there was the sound of feet pounding down the corridor, and muffled yells were filling their ears. Hermione slowly closed her mouth and looked around nervously.  
  
"What on Earth...?" Ron whispered, staring around at them all. "What's going on? Sirius, do you know..."  
  
But Sirius only shook his head very slowly, staring with his eyes fixed on the door.   
  
There was a pause, and they could all hear a muffled voice speaking, but although they couldn't make out the words, they recognized the voice very clearly as Albus Dumbledore's. Then there was more shouting and the sounds resumed. Ron, who was closest to the door, began to back away from it uneasily.  
  
Suddenly, it happened, although so quickly that for a second no one could figure out what was going on. All Sirius, Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew was that the door had been blasted open, and the room was suddenly filled with people: Albus Dumbledore, Colette Villons, Remus Lupin, Arthur, Molly, and Percy Weasley, and-the person who had first entered the room-Cornelius Fudge.  
  
There was a short pause of silence, in which everyone stared at one another. In that moment, it was only Hermione who noticed that the door to Sirius's room was practically hanging off its hinges. In his obvious rage, Fudge had broken down the door.  
  
Three people tried to break the silence at the same time. Sirius asked, "What's going on?", Dumbledore began to clear his throat to speak, and Fudge said hotly and loudly, "He's not getting one!"  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't need to ask what "it" was. Harry paled considerably, and Ron glared at Fudge. Colette, however, narrowed her eyes at the minister.  
  
"Cornelius," She said in a soft and dangerous voice. "You must reconsider. This man-"  
  
"-is not getting a trial!" Fudge finished for her. He didn't look too good, like someone who was plainly dead tired, but at the same time trying to stay awake. His eyes were bright and darting, and his face was rapidly changing from his normal skin tone to purple. "What you fail to realize, all of you-" He glared around at everyone in the room, although Harry noticed that he was carefully avoiding Sirius's gaze. "-is that this man is a murderer-"  
  
"No," Colette said, her voice beginning to rise. She was trembling slightly from anger. "What *you* fail to realize is that by not giving him a trial, you will be condemning an innocent man to a lifetime in Azkaban-"  
  
"Mom! Dad! Percy!" Came the sudden and unexpected cries. It was Fred, George, and Ginny. Ginny, leading the way, burst into the room and rushed to her parents and brother.  
  
"Mom, what-"  
  
"Shh," Mrs. Weasley shushed her softly, giving the twins a reproving look as they stared at Sirius, who payed them no attention in the least. He was staring at Fudge, who was looking around in distaste.  
  
"What is this?" He said, his eyes widening at the sight of the Weasley family, as if he had never seen anything like them before. "*What* are you all doing here? I don't know exactly what your playing at, Dumbledore, Lupin, Villons," He added to them, while making an obvious effort to look dignified. "Sirius Black is not going to receive a trial. Why try an already convicted murderer? He's not going to get even the merest hearing, not while I'm minister long enough to prevent it."  
  
"Then maybe you *shouldn't* be minister long enough to prevent it," Remus Lupin said softly, and everyone looked at him in surprise-everyone except Dumbledore, who was looking at hims old student in quiet approval. He had been wondering if someone was going to say that. Harry, meanwhile, started at the sight of his old professor. With all the commotion centering around Colette and Fudge, he hadn't even noticed the man, who was partially hidden behind the Weasleys.  
  
"What?" Fudge sputtered. His skin tone changed from bright purple to ashen white remarkably fast as he stared at Lupin. "What-what are you talking about? How dare you suggest such a thing?"  
  
Remus's eyes narrowed slightly, but he met Fudge's stare. "I'm *suggesting* it because it seems like the right thing to suggest," He replied cooly. "You've already made one enormous mistake during your time as minister, Fudge, and that is denying that Voldemort is indeed rising to power again. Are you going to make yet another by sentencing a man who never has followed Voldemort and never will follow Voldemort to a fate of Voldemort followers?"  
  
Fudge stared at Remus, looking appalled at how someone could say such things. He wasn't used to being defied so openly and clearly, by anyone, and he looked strangely baffled as he spoke.  
  
"What does You-Know-Who have to do with this? Nothing at all! Nothing! Just because I refuse to acknowledge an event that never occurred doesn't mean that I am a horrible minister, and by sentencing a guilty man to Azkaban doesn't mean that I have no heart! Dumbledore, you can't possible believe this..." Fudge turned, half pleading, to the old man who had stood unspeaking in the corner of the room.  
  
"You know very well, as I do, what I believe, Cornelius," Dumbledore said smoothly, peering at everyone in the room over his spectacles. "Sirius is as free of murder as you or I, and Voldemort has indeed returned to power."  
  
"Preposterous! Insane!" Spluttered Fudge, looking very taken aback. "Absolutely insane! Your all off your rockers, all of you!" He stared, wide and wild-eyed, around everyone at the room. "Imagine what the rest of the magical community would think of you-"  
  
"The rest of the magical community's negative impression of us is due, no doubt, mainly to you!" Colette said, her eyes flashing. "Let's just say that you haven't made it a secret that you disapprove of us and our beliefs."  
  
"And why should I make it a secret?" Fudge demanded. His face had resumed from white to purple once more. "Believing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, and Sirius Black perfectly guilt free-"  
  
"I didn't kill those people, okay?" Sirius interrupted Fudge suddenly, speaking up for the first time. Everyone looked at him, and Fudge backed up a step. "I didn't, Pettigrew did! And now he's off, with Voldemort-"  
  
"How dare you accuse an innocent man-rest his soul-of working for the Dark Lord?" Fudge demanded. He had regained his composure, but still refused to meet Sirius's eyes.  
  
"Innocent man!" Sirius's eyes flashed dangerously. "Innocent man...I don't think I've ever known a less innocent man in my life..."  
  
"Except yourself, of course!" Fudge raged. "You're not innocent, never have been, never will be-"  
  
"Cornelius, that is quite enough!" Dumbledore said sharply, as Harry took a protective step closer to his godfather. "I think that you have made your point very clearly."  
  
Harry couldn't have agreed more, and he also felt very thankful towards Dumbledore for breaking up the tension that had been building up between Fudge and everyone else in the room-even him, Hermione, and the Weasleys, who had not said anything at all. Both Fudge and Sirius were very powerful men, stubborn in their beliefs, but now wasn't the time to go on a raging debate between the two. Everyone looked at Dumbledore expectantly after his statement, who was studying Fudge carefully.  
  
"Cornelius, if you are not going to take steps to ensure that Sirius gets a fair trial, I assure you that the rest of us will," He said, and Harry doubted that anyone would have argued with him just then. He had spoken very calmly, but there was a finality and a power in his voice that Fudge obviously didn't feel like challenging-for he clenched his teeth very tightly together. Then he took a long, deep breath and, without waiting another moment, stormed out of the room.  
  
Everyone stared at the broken door as Fudge closed it noisily behind himself, the door hanging off its hinges. Percy was looking appalled, Ginny shocked, Colette infuriated, Ron furious, Hermione nervous, Fred and George uncomfortable. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were looking at each other anxiously, and Remus was shaking his head at the door. Harry and Sirius, however, were staring at Dumbledore, who was staring at them back.  
  
"Professor..." Harry said slowly. "You said that we are going to get Sirius a trial ourselves. How are we going to do that, if the Minister of Magic doesn't allow it?"  
  
"Oh, the Minister of Magic will allow it," Dumbledore said, a small smile on his face.  
  
"But, you know Fudge, he definitely won't-"  
  
"Oh, Fudge will not allow it, but the new minister will," Dumbledore said calmly.  
  
Now, everyone in the room was staring at Dumbledore. As realization to what he was saying dawned on them, their expressions all turned from what they previously were to surprise.  
  
"Wait, so you're going to try to knock Fudge out of office? By electing someone else as minister?" Ron asked bluntly, looking at Dumbledore with growing admiration. Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"But no one will follow us..." Harry said hopelessly, sinking down onto the edge of Sirius's bed in despair. "Even if you do get someone else elected, Professor, he won't believe us..."  
  
"It would not be a 'he', Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "It would be a 'she.'"  
  
There was a short silence, as everyone stared at him in uncomprehension.  
  
"Albus," Colette said sharply, staring at him, her face slightly anxious as she began to suspect what he was implying. "Who's going to run against Fudge?"  
  
"Why, you are, my dear," Dumbledore smiled.  
  
Now the whole room was staring at Colette, who's face quickly turned from anxiousness to knowing, and then lit up as she began to grin.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
"Wormtail!"  
  
Peter Pettigrew looked up, startled, at his master from where he had been huddling in the corner of the living room of the Riddle House, nibbling on a piece of stale bread.  
  
"Y-yes, Master?"  
  
"Get ready, Wormtail," Voldemort said softly. He was standing near the window, staring out over the countryside.  
  
"For what, my lord?" Pettigrew asked, looking around nervously.  
  
"We are going to do it tonight, Wormtail. Tonight."  
  
"Tonight?"   
  
"Yes. Tonight. Tonight, we will change history."  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Man, I've been working on this chapter for forever...your probably all extremely pissed at me, I'm sorry! I'm going to try and be better about getting the chapters done sooner. I made Hermione very observant in this chapter, didn't I? Does she seem too observant, more than she was in the books?  
  
I'm sorry if I got all luvey-duvey in that little part between Harry and Ginny. I was listening to the soundtrack to Moulin Rouge at the time. I've been listening to that a lot recently, and I think it's corrupting my mind. :)  
  
Where are all the reviewers that disappeared? Abby, WeasleyTwinsLover1112, wellduh..., Lily of the Valley, all of you people? Did you fall of the face of the planet? Because if you did, that would be bad... Also, a special shout out to Star Light, wherever you are! Thank you sooooooooo much for putting me on your favorite author's list! I'm so happy! And a big thanks to celestial princess: Go Dena! Mucho thanks for the idea of Fudge breaking down the door! Hehe...  
  
  
Alexa Black: Don't worry I know exactly what's going to happen in the story...I've got it all worked out.   
  
ActaDrama: Wow that was loud and clear! Thank you, thank you, thank you...you get the idea.:) Like the name, does it mean that you like acting and drama? I do, I love all that stuff actually...I was thinking of auditioning for Hermione in the HP movie (I'm the right age, right type, etc.) but they only wanted British kids ::sniff, sniff:: Although I've had tons of people tell me that I freak them out by doing a scaringly perfect impersonation of the actress...okay that was incredibly off subject. :)  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Evil cliffhanger, huh? Hmm...I seem to be more secure about how a chapter went if I leave it on a cliffhanger...yeah I'm demented, I know. :) Thanks-I'm not really sure what Colette and Sirius's realationship is going to be, I haven't decided yet. About Remus...well, I had originally decided to pair him up with someone, but I was thinking of maybe doing that in a sequel that I've been considering...yes, you read that right! I'm not sure if there will be a sequel, but I've been thinking about it. Shh, mum's the word!   
If I were you, I wouldn't believe 100% what I said was going to be in the story in the first few chapters. My idea has changed drastically since then...things are in the story that weren't in the original idea, and vice versa...one major example: In my original outline, Colette never existed! Yeah, that major...and new ideas are popping up left and right, so be ready for surprises!  
I'm glad that at least someone will continue reading this migraine-causing story, no matter how long the chapters take to get out!  
  
Celestial princess: New computer for you? Yay! My parents have been talking about getting me my own computer...which would be WONDERFUL!!!  
Volders? Hmm that's an interesting nickname...ha! Superman! Love that! Hey, did you like how Fudge broke down the door to room 521? It was solely your idea! Merci beacoup...on a completely different note, do you have the camp directory? Cause I lost Nadia's address and I want to send her something.  
I'll review Draco's Story one of these days... 


	15. To dream or not to dream, that is the qu...

Disclaimer: I am getting really tired of writing these. How many times do I need to proclaim to the world that I don't own Harry Potter? And, do people actually read these? I wonder if I wrote out the Star Spangled Banner, someone would notice...  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know, this took forever to get out.  
  
Chapter Fifteen-To dream or not to dream, that is the question.  
  
It wasn't until the visiting hours of St. Mungo's had officially ended that Harry returned to the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione. He had found it very hard to say goodbye to Sirius, even though it was only for one night, because he kept on having the nagging worry that something could happen to his godfather over the night. In fact, Sirius had felt the same way about Harry.  
  
As Harry had left Sirius's room when the nurse had kicked him out, closing the now repaired door behind himself after giving a wave and a rather forced smile, Sirius had felt a strange feeling of foreboding. Biting the edge of his lip nervously as he watched Harry leave, he felt unecessarily anxious, and he didn't know why. It was the kind of apprehension that someone usually felt before something big happened to them, the tugging sensation in the pit of the stomach, making someone want to turn back time so the upcoming event would never occurr. Whenever Sirius felt like this, he usually knew the cause of the feeling, but in this case he didn't-and that fact unnerved him even more.  
  
Harry, however, wasn't dreading some unknown event, but just had a persisting worry for Sirius. He managed to put that worry aside, though, in the drive back to the Burrow, which was so unlike the drive from the Burrow that it was startling. In contrast to the ride to St. Mungo's-which was very tense and quiet-this ride was loud and, for lack of a better word, fun. Fred and George were being their very rambunctious selves with Harry and Ron joining in the fun. Even the usually quiet Ginny got involved in all the noisemaking, blushing furiously as Harry playfully threw one of the twin's trick-wands-turned-into-teddy-bears at her. Then, both Ron and Harry threw a bunch of the teddy bears at Hermione, who shrieked and covered her face with her arms-partially hiding a smile.  
  
Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat up front, smiling to themselves, quietly recognizing Harry's need to be a normal teenager for once, and for the rest of the kids to let off some steam after the long day in the hospital.  
  
When they reached the Burrow, no one felt like going to bed immediately. Everyone was either too sugar high or silently worrying about the next day. Nevertheless, they all went to bed shortly after they arrived, finally feeling the effects of the long day. As they got into bed, everyone was asking themselves questions such as, What if Colette doesn't become minister? Or What will happen to Sirius if she doesn't? No one voiced these questions aloud, though, and everyone went off, exhausted, to bed.  
  
Too tired to even take off his clothes and put on pajamas, Harry half climbed into, half fell into the mattress Mrs. Weasley had made up for him on the floor of Ron's room. He could hardly believe the events of the day, which was easily one of the longest feeling days of his life. If Harry had gone to bed less sleepy than he did, he wouldn't have fallen asleep very quickly-but he was dead tired and, as all worries about Sirius were pushed from his mind, it only took a few minutes for his heavy breathing to fill the room. As he lay on his side, he didn't even care that Fred and George's trick wands were still in his pants pocket and were cutting into his ribs. Breathing deeply, Harry dropped off to sleep.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"M-master?" Peter Pettigrew whispered nervously. "How are we going to do this?"  
  
"I am going to set your Time Turner, and mine," Voldemort replied slowly, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "I am going to go back to Halloween, 1981. You are going to follow me precisely an hour after I leave, after I have found my old self and informed him what was about to happen that night. Then, together, the two of us are going to kill all three of the Potters. Two heads are always better than one."  
  
Pettigrew looked up at Voldemort as he set the two Time Turners for that specific date and time. As his master handed him his Time Turner, Pettigrew felt a nagging worry. There was something wrong with this plan. "But, Master, what about the boy?"  
  
"What about him?" His master snarled, suddenly standing up straighter and looming over the small man. It made Pettigrew feel very threatened and frightened, and he unwillingly shrank back. "I-I mean, can you k-kill him?"  
  
Voldemort brought his face very close to Pettigrew's, his features expressionless. "Are you doubting my power, Wormtail?" He asked softly, in a perfectly calm voice.  
  
"N-no!" Pettigrew sputtered, eyes wild with fear, trembling violently in the dark. "I was just-y-you couldn't kill him l-last time, so I was m- merely-"  
  
"You are merely being a nuisance, Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice still perfectly steady and calm. "Last time I tried to kill him, he had a wand. Unless I'm greatly mistaken, babies don't have wands. And the time before that, I wasn't expecting that I could be almost destroyed by a little baby. Do you think I knew that that little child would destroy all of my powers?"  
  
Pettigrew shook his head violently, habit making him reach out his left hand to clutch at his silver right hand in fear.  
  
"But now, I will know what to expect," Voldemort said softly. Suddenly, he swiftly moved away from Pettigrew and stood up, looking taller and more powerful than Pettigrew had ever seen him. The small man shuddered and shrank back again, but his master took no notice. At this point, he seemed to be talking to himself more than Pettigrew.  
  
"And two times me will certainly be enough to kill James and that little baby! And, of course, with your help, Wormtail."  
  
"What am I going to do, Master?" Pettigrew asked, not entirely sure that he wanted to know.  
  
"You, Wormtail, are going to lead the Potters astray. Go and visit them, perhaps. Make sure that they're very unsuspecting when myself and I come in. Keep their guard down. Act as if you're still friends." Voldemort spat out the last word, and Pettigrew suddenly found that he was feeling slightly sick.  
  
"You, my little piece of filth, are going to play the key role in this plan. If you succeed, everything will have worked and I rule the magical world!" Voldemort suddenly let out a burst of cruel laughter, and Pettigrew jumped. "But if you fail."  
  
Voldemort's voice trailed off. Pettigrew watched him, frowning slightly.  
  
"If you fail."  
  
"W-what will happen if I f-fail, Master?" Pettigrew asked carefully, although he couldn't keep his voice from shaking.  
  
"Oh, you don't want to fail, Wormtail. For your own sake, you don't want to fail."  
  
Pettigrew shuddered and shrank back into the shadows of the abandoned barn in Godric's Hollow near where the Potters had once lived, as his master let out battle-like cry, swinging the Time Turner over his head and disappearing into the darkness. Voldemort had gone back to 1981, and, quite suddenly, Pettigrew found that he was alone.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry was having a dream. In his dream, he was standing in the entrance of some sort of large, dark room. In the corner of the room was Peter Pettigrew. Harry immediately knew that something was going on, although he didn't know what. Slipping back into the shadows, Harry watched Pettigrew carefully. He seemed to be fingering something in his hands. Every once in a while, he appeared to be looking at this watch. Squinting into the darkness, Harry tried to make out what it was in his hand, but he couldn't see it. Stepping forward, Harry tried to see what it was.  
  
It was a Time Turner!  
  
Suppressing a gasp of surprise, Harry bit the inside of his cheeks, his eyes wide. What was Pettigrew doing with a Time Turner? Even in this dreamlike state, Harry knew that this wasn't good. Somehow, he had to get the Time Turner from him.  
  
Harry quickly thought about how he was going to about with this. If he jumped at Pettigrew from behind, then he might be able to knock him out and get the Time Turner away from him.  
  
Harry didn't even stop to consider the fact that Pettigrew might have a wand, or he might not really be alone, or that he had a silver hand, or to remember that this was, after all, a dream-all he did was muster up his courage and pounce at Pettigrew from behind.  
  
Although Harry was small and skinny and Pettigrew larger-around the middle, anyway-Harry had the advantage of surprise, and was able to shock the man into a state where he had no idea what was going on.  
  
"What the.!" Pettigrew yelled, trying to throw Harry off of him. But Harry held onto the man tight and, with strength he didn't know he possessed, pushed him down, banging his head against the floor and knocking him out.  
  
Harry rolled off of Pettigrew, panting heavily. There, lying on the ground next to Pettigrew's hand, was the Time Turner.  
  
On a sudden impulse that Harry was unable to explain the meaning of, he suddenly picked up the Time Turner, and-without a moment of hesitation- put it around his neck.  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open as he woke up on the mattress on the floor of Ron's room in the Burrow. He didn't remember his dream at all, only remembering that he had had one. He felt something wrapped around his neck and, still half asleep, pulled the whatever-it-was over his head and clutched it in his hand under the blankets. Closing his eyes, Harry turned over onto his back, trying to slip back into sleep. What he failed to notice, before he dozed off, was that in his hand was a Time Turner-a Time Turner which, in his sleep, he let go of, and it fell to the floor. A very specific Time Turner. A Time Turner that had just been around his neck, and was set for Halloween, 1981.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
He woke up. Harry quickly opened his eyes, startled to find that one second he had been lying on a mattress on the floor of Ron's room, and the next he was lying on a cold wooden floor. When he opened his eyes all he saw was blackness, and he blinked several times, just to make sure that his eyes were really open. Frowning slightly at the remaining darkness, he came to the conclusion that he must have fallen off the mattress in his sleep and bumped his head on the floor. Yeah, that must be it...  
  
And so Harry reached out his hand to his left side, expecting to hit the blankets or his pillow, but instead his hand hit nothing at all. Heart pounding, he groped for the mattress, and gulped as his hand slapped the cold floor.  
  
Maybe he had fallen off the other side of the mattress...  
  
He reached out to his right side, looking blindly for anything that would assure him that he was in Ron's room, but he touched nothing except the cool air. His hand dropped limply to the floor.  
  
Harry swallowed again, very hard this time. He could feel the familiar warning bells stirring in him, the warning bells that signaled the adrenaline kicking in and the beginnings of panic. He struggled to calm down, taking a deep breath.  
  
Maybe he was dreaming. That was it, dreaming...  
  
Harry sat up, looking around into the darkness, trying to convince himself that this was, indeed, a dream. He tried to get a sense of where he was. He had the feeling that he was in a large open space, with a wooden floor, completely exposed and helpless. Even if this was a dream, he didn't like the feeling of total blindness that he was getting.  
  
Harry got shakily to his feet, shivering in his jeans and old, thin T- shirt of Dudley's, wondering dimly if you feel cold while in a dream. Shaking his head, he tried to organize his thoughts. He knew there must be a wall somewhere, because he couldn't just be in a place that had no walls, and went on forever. But then again, if this was a dream, anything was possible.  
  
Harry didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.  
  
Deciding to try and find a wall anyway, and maybe find the reason that he was here in this dream world, Harry began to walk forward, hating the feeling of blindness and helplessness.  
  
He soon found that he wasn't in that large of a room at all, but it only seemed that way because it was large and cold and completely empty. After a minute or so of walking blind in the darkness, he painfully banged his elbow against a wall. He followed the wall with his hands until-here, there was a crack in the wall, here, it's a door-  
  
Harry moved his hands carefully down the crack until his right hand found a doorknob.  
  
"Yes!" He muttered excitedly, quickly turned the knob, and threw himself outside.  
  
Harry stared. He seemed to be somewhere on the side of a dirt road. On either side of the road were trees, like a forest. He frowned as he looked around, trying to figure out where he was-then he remembered that he had just left a building of some sort, and he jogged out into the middle of the dirt road so he could get a better look at it.  
  
Once again, Harry stared. It appeared that he had been in an old barn of some sort. It was very run down-the paint was peeling, the windows on the second floor were broken, and it looked as if some of the roof had caved in- but it was still, unmistakably, a barn.  
  
"This is the strangest dream I've ever had," Harry muttered, frowning and scratching the back of his neck in bewilderment. He looked up and down the dirt road, searching for any sign of civilization, or any sign of anything, for that matter-and was surprised to see that a little farther down the road, up a steep hill, there was a sign. Literally, a sign posted on the side of the road.  
  
Harry couldn't read what it said from where he stood, and plus, the light was fading in the gathering dark-the sky was turning orange. He was certainly curious to know-besides, he was in a dream world. What was there to lose?  
  
So he started to jog up the hill, but stopped jogging halfway. The hill had become very steep, and it was very hard to jog up. He began to walk, his breath coming in short gasps now, and his legs were burning. Finally, he reached the top of the hill and collapsed onto the grass at the side of the road near where the sign was.  
  
He took a moment to catch his breath before looking up at the sign and reading what it said. When he did, though, he gave a small intake of air, and his mouth dropped open.  
  
Welcome to Godric's Hollow! The sign proclaimed cheerily.  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. Wasn't Godric's Hollow the place that he had lived with his parents before they had died? How on Earth could he have gotten there?  
  
This is a dream world, he reminded himself firmly. I can go anywhere in a dream world.  
  
But Harry's gut feeling was beginning to kick in. It was the same feeling that had told him something was wrong when he had seen Quirrel in front of the Mirror of Erised, Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, and when Moody/Crouch had brought Harry up to his office after the third task only a month before. The same feeling that had told Harry something was wrong with Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack. The same feeling that had told Harry that Sirius was telling the truth that same night.  
  
And right now, the feeling was telling him that this was no dream.  
  
Harry got to his feet and stood at the crest of the hill, staring down into the town of Godric's Hollow. It was a small town, sparsely populated on the outskirts (near where Harry was), but it obviously had some sort of town square in the center, which Harry could see was bustling with people.  
  
As he stood on the top of the hill looking over the town, Harry wondered what he should do. He kept on telling himself that this was a dream, but he knew in his heart that this was no dream.  
  
Suddenly, the full impact of what he had just thought hit him forcefully as he began to accept that this was, indeed, no dream. But if this wasn't a dream, then what was it?  
  
Harry tried to think of reasons for his being here, and how he got there in the first place. He couldn't remember ever studying any circumstances like these at all at Hogwarts, or anytime in his life, as a matter of fact. Finally, after standing there for several minutes, Harry came to four conclusions: 1) He was in some sort of alternate dimension, 2) He had traveled through time, 3) He had somehow been transported to Godric's Hollow, though in the same time as his own, 4) or-as he fervently hoped- this was a dream.  
  
He quickly ruled out conclusions three and four. He couldn't have been transported to Godric's Hollow while being in the same time period, because it had been night when he had gone to sleep at the Burrow, and here the sun was just beginning to set. Number four, well...Harry forced himself to accept the fact-as ludicrous as it may be-that he wasn't dreaming.  
  
But when he thought about it, the other two conclusions didn't seem that probable either-how on Earth could he have gotten into an alternate dimension? And, how could he have traveled through time when he didn't have a Time Turner?  
  
Harry still couldn't remember his previous dream.  
  
Maybe, he thought dully. I really did fall of the mattress and I hit my head on Ron's floor. And now I have a concussion. And now I'm hallucinating. And then they're going to put me in St. Mungo's. Maybe they'll put me in a room near Sirius.  
  
Well, there was only one way to find out.  
  
Sighing, Harry began to make his way down the hill and into Godric's Hollow.  
  
Nearly twenty minutes later, when Harry had long reached the bottom of the hill and walked through the outskirts of the town, he found himself in the very center of Godric's Hollow. There seemed to be a sort of festive atmosphere about, though Harry couldn't quite put his finger on its cause. Everybody he saw seemed to be very excited about something, and Harry found himself frowning in confusion. What was going on?  
  
He shivered suddenly, and not just because he was cold, but because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be out of this dream place, or whatever it was.  
  
It was only then that Harry noticed how chilly it was. Rubbing his hands together and suppressing another shiver, it occurred to Harry that maybe, wherever he was, it wasn't summer. It certainly didn't seem like it-it wasn't just the weather, but the amount of leaves on the ground and color of the leaves on the trees-orange and red and gold, for the most part-made Harry think that he must be a good way into autumn. Maybe it was October, or November, perhaps.  
  
Harry stood in front of a diner of some sort, looking around nervously. Not for the first time that evening-for it was obviously evening, as the setting sun told him-he wondered what he was doing there. Then another thought occurred to him: Where was Godric's Hollow? He knew it had to be somewhere in the country, but as to where.and also, when was it? It had surely been July when he had fallen asleep at the Burrow, but it was obviously not July now. Harry was extremely confused.  
  
And confused wasn't the only thing that he felt. Harry noticed with distaste as his stomach began to growl. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't really had a dinner that night.  
  
"Great," Harry muttered. "Bloody body. You just love to pick the best times to make me hungry, don't you?"  
  
He reached into his jeans pocket, expecting to find nothing but Fred and George's trick wands there, and was very surprised to see that he had quite a few pounds.  
  
Harry stared at the money in his hand. "Where on Earth did you come from?" He murmered. But now was no time to speculate. He was getting very hungry, dream world or not. He could go into the diner that he was standing in front of, get a little food, and maybe find out what the date was.  
  
So Harry turned around and pushed open the diner's door.  
  
It was a small diner, but very comfortable and homely looking, with little bells on the top of the door jingling as Harry opened it. It reminded him of a diner that he had been to once with Aunt Petunia and Dudley when he was little. Aunt Petunia and Dudley hadn't really wanted to take Harry to the diner, but they had had no choice that day and he had ended up coming along.  
  
Harry walked over to the counter, looking around for a menu or something. After spotting a pile on the corner of the counter and picking one up, Harry picked it up and flipped through, while at the same time looking around the diner for a waiter or someone whom he could ask the date.  
  
Then he spotted a waiter over at the other end of the diner. He was young, not looking much older than Harry. He walked over to him.  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry said politely. The waiter looked up at him from where he had been wrapping silverware in napkins. "Do you know what the date is?"  
  
The waiter gave him a strange look. "Ya don't know what day it is, mate?"  
  
A little intimidated by the boy's strange look and his Cockney-ish accent, Harry slowly shook his head.  
  
"It's October 31st. Halloween, bud," He nodded his head over to where Harry noticed a calendar was hanging on the wall behind the counter. "Don't ya know?"  
  
Harry backed away from him, not answering, his head spinning. Halloween? Halloween?  
  
He quickly walked over to the counter and dropped the menu down on top of it, all thoughts of food gone from his head. He looked at the calendar behind the counter and saw that it did, indeed, say October 31st. Harry's eyes strayed across it, heart pounding. Then he read what year it was, and nearly passed out.  
  
1981?  
  
How could it be 1981? Harry was one hundred percent positive that it was not 1981, it was 1995. But that wasn't what was bothering him.  
  
1981. October 31st, Halloween. 1981. He knew that date.he knew that date.  
  
"Excuse me," Said a female voice from behind him. Dumbly, Harry moved to the side without a second thought. His mind was buzzing, and he wasn't able to focus on anything, until.  
  
"Thanks," The young woman said as she placed her menu on the counter. Harry didn't answer her, just nodded absentmindedly. 1981.1981.  
  
"Come on, James, we'd better get a move on!" The young woman called out to someone across the diner. Harry's breath caught in his throat, and the world spun.  
  
James???  
  
Hearing the jangling bells that signaled the door to the diner was being opened, Harry whirled around to face it, mouth hanging open to below his knees. He turned around just in time to see a young woman and a flash of red hair leave the diner, with the door closing behind her.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know, a cliffhanger! Sorry, everyone.  
  
Man, I really hope this two and a half week space between chapters really isn't becoming a habit. I don't like it, and you guys certainly don't like it.grr I have come to the conclusion that all homework is the spawn of Satan. Grr.  
  
Does Harry seem.believable in this chapter? I'm not quite sure, cause I had a heck of a time writing this, I can tell you that much. I had to rewrite the whole first half because I totally messed something up, and I kept changing things around because Harry's emotions didn't feel right. And also, did this chapter make any sense? It was pretty key, so I hope so! This was one of the harder chapters to write, definitely.  
  
So were getting to a bit of a climax here, eh? I hope I can get the next chapter out soon.just think of it as there being a commercial right after a really exciting part of a TV show.well, you guys are really lucky this chapter is the length that it is. I was going to end it when Harry began to walk towards Godric's Hollow and just get it out to you guys, but I knew it would be too short.  
  
Is the name of the chapter too stupid? I dunno, I was trying to think of a chapter name, and I thought it was kinda funny. Though it is cheesy in a way. Oh, well.  
  
What happened to all those reviewers I once had? Are you guys still reading the story? You've all disappeared.WeasleyTwinsLover1112, Abby, wellduh., Lily of the Valley.  
  
On a totally different note, did you guys hear about how Richard Harris-the actor who played Dumbledore in the HP movies-died of cancer on Friday? Aw, it's so sad, he was only seventy-two.  
  
Anyways, onto the reviews.  
  
Alexa Black: Only the beginning, huh? Man, are you right, as you certainly know by now! Only the beginning.that very much hits home.  
  
Celestial princess: Yay! I'm glad that you liked it! I certainly did.when did you make that comment about Fudge breaking down the door, in like the 5th chapter or something? Heck, it was a good idea! I made it very obvious so you would notice it.  
  
Whap Fudge away, Dena! I don't have any objections! Hmm.that's an interesting idea.maybe you should write a story about it? But there'd have to be a really good reason why Fudge was for Voldemort, etc-though it would certainly be unique!  
  
P: Ack, I still haven't decided! I don't think in this story, though, but maybe in another.  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Fudge? Go without a fight? HA! This oughta be interesting, huh? Yeah, Remus rocks! Go Remus, go Remus, go go, go Remus.k I've had WAY too much sugar today.  
  
Ashes: Wow thanks a lot! I love it when I get new reviewers. ( Kept you on the edge of your seat? Really? Well, your comment specifically made me rethink the genre setting, and I'm changing it from Drama/General to Drama/Suspense. It really has gotten suspensful, huh?  
  
I like it when Harry and Sirius bond, too. I love reading those fics so much that I decided to write one of my own, thought, that wasn't the only inspiration for this.  
  
Adios, amigos! 


	16. Hiding in the Shadows

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and that's all there is to it.  
  
A/N: Yep, I'm alive. Nope, I haven't died. Midterms are over! Hurray! And to everyone in the U.S., happy belated Thanksgiving! Also, can someone please tell me why when I put things in italics or bold, it will turn up on FanFiction.Net normal, and why whenever I do the three little dot things they come out as periods? Grr...I'm trying to fix it...  
  
Chapter Sixteen-Hiding in the Shadows  
  
"One way, or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha getcha..." --Debbie Harry  
  
Ron woke up at exactly 7:00 the next morning. As soon as he glanced at the clock on the wall and saw what time it was, he smiled. Perfect, he thought. An hour and a half before visiting hours at St. Mungo's start.  
  
Rubbing his eyes and noting happily that he felt quite rested, he sat up in bed and stretched his arms high above his head, giving a small grunt of satisfaction as he loosened his muscles. Feeling in a considerably better mood than he had this time yesterday, he swung his legs over his bed, calling over his shoulder to the mattress where he knew Harry lay.  
  
"Hey, Harry, get up, mate!" He yelled. "Rise and shine!" He walked over to his dresser, opened up three drawers at once, and started carelessly tossing clothes across the room that he didn't want to wear.  
  
After a moment of digging through his clothes and still receiving no response from his friend, he reached into his top drawer and pulled out a pair of maroon colored socks that his mother had made him, preparing to throw them at Harry's head in an attempt to get him up.  
  
He turned around to face Harry's mattress, with his hand holding the socks raised into the air and ready to throw, but he stopped as he saw that the mattress was empty.  
  
Ron slowly lowered his hand, staring at the mattress. Of course! Harry must have gotten up already! It occurred to Ron that his friend had probably had a harder time sleeping than he had. Shrugging and dropping the socks again into the drawer, he quickly got dressed, throwing on some Muggle clothes. They would be traveling in London, after all.  
  
Walking out of his room and down the several flights of stairs to the ground level of the Burrow, Ron walked into the kitchen and saw his parents and Ginny. He opened his mouth to ask where Harry was, but closed it again as they all seemed very distracted. Mrs. Weasley was not only frying eggs, but was also yelling something at Mr. Weasley, calling to Ginny to put something in the car, and hollering at the top of her lungs for the twins to stop being stupid. Ron was confused for a moment because the twins weren't even in the kitchen, but then started in surprise as George came running straight toward him out of no where. Before he could react, there was a short bump against his back, and he stumbled into the kitchen as Fred came running in from the opposite direction.  
  
Grumbling, he was just about to ask someone where Harry was when Ginny suddenly ran out of the kitchen, bumping into Ron as she went and knocking him into the counter.  
  
"Sorry!" She called over her shoulder as she disappeared up the staircase. He made a small sound of irritation and was about to address his father when Mr. Weasley ran off, saying hurriedly, "I'm sorry Ron, I can't stop now, I have to talk to Dumbledore." Then he rushed off to use the fireplace in the living room. In the kitchen, that left Ron and his mother, who was still frying eggs.  
  
"Did you wake Harry up yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked him, noticing her youngest son for the first time that morning.  
  
"No, he's already up..." Ron barely had a chance to say before his father came running back into the kitchen, cursing under his breath.  
  
"Damn it, I can't reach Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley muttered. "He must be at the Ministry."  
  
"Is there any way that you can reach him without going through Fudge's secretaries?" Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder, still busy making breakfast.  
  
"No," Mr. Weasley sighed, sinking down into a chair at the table. "I'll have to try again later. Maybe at the hospital."  
  
"What's going on?" Ron asked nervously, looking from one parent to the other. He was beginning to get the feeling that they knew something that he didn't.  
  
"Well, um, something with Fudge, dear," Mrs. Weasley said vaguely, waving her hand in the air. "Have you woken up Harry yet?"  
  
"I already told you!" Ron said, a little angrily, wondering what was up with his family this morning. "He's already up..."  
  
He was about to ask about this something with Fudge, but just then his mother let out a surprised, "Oh!" The magical spatula that had flipped the eggs by itself had begun to loudly smacking itself against the edge of the frying pan, signaling that the eggs were done cooking. Mrs. Weasley snatched the spatula off the frying pan and tossed it carelessly onto the counter, much like Ron had done with his clothes. Mr. Weasley got up to help her, waving his wand as plates came flying out of the cabinets.  
  
"Harry's already up?" Mrs. Weasley said absentmindedly, motioning for him to come over and help set the table. "I haven't seen him."  
  
"Well, he's not in his room. Maybe he went to the bathroom." Ron studied his mother carefully. "Mum, what's going on with Fudge?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley didn't answer. She busied herself with pouring orange juice into glasses. Ron turned to his father, his previous feelings of irritation and annoyance quickly disappearing into anxiousness and foreboding. "Dad? What's going on?"  
  
Mr. Weasley sighed again, turning to face his son. "Fudge is just.doing something, Ron. Doing something bad." He paused. Seeing the look on Ron's face, he sighed yet again. "I'm sorry. I really want to tell Harry first, and then the rest of you all together."  
  
"You can't just tell me now?"  
  
"No," Mr. Weasley answered heavily. "Where's Hermione?"  
  
"I dunno. Ask Ginny," Ron muttered, frowning. He knew that Fudge had been doing bad things already, what else could he have possibly done to make their lives worse? He could hardly contain his nervouseness. Finally, after a moment, he blurted out, "Is what he's doing really bad?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, stealing a side glance at her son and husband from where she was taking out silverware. Mr. Weasley didn't answer, and there was a short silence that lasted until Hermione walked into the kitchen, running a comb through her hair.  
  
"Hello," She said, yawning slightly and leaning against the doorframe. "Where is everyone?"  
  
"Ginny's out front, Fred and George are running amok, and Harry Apparated to the moon," Ron said grumpily, plopping himself onto a chair and putting his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands and glaring at his parents. He hated being left out of things.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow at him briefly, but then turned back to trying to get a particulary nasty tangle out of her hair, jumping slightly as Ginny appeared behind her.  
  
"Harry? On the moon? How interesting," Ginny muttered vaguely, taking a seat next to Ron. "When are we going to leave for St. Mungo's?"  
  
"In about twenty minutes, so eat quickly," Mrs. Weasley said, setting a plate of the fried eggs in front of her. "Ron, are you sure that Harry's up?"  
  
"Positive," Ron insisted. "He's not in his bed, and you didn't see him outside, Ginny?"  
  
Ginny shook her head wearily, rubbing her eyes. Ron quickly observed that he seemed to be the only one in the room who wasn't extremely tired. But then again, he had always been a fairly deep sleeper.  
  
Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Hermione, dear, would you mind running up and seeing if Harry is upstairs?"  
  
"Okay," Hermione said, disappearing out of the kitchen. A moment after she left, Fred and George walked into the kitchen, sitting down in the two seats next to Ginny. Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes at them, but didn't say anything as she set down their plates of eggs.  
  
George picked up his fork and spooned some of the eggs onto it, looking around the kitchen at his family. Suddenly, he said, "Hey, I saw Hermione. Where's Harry?"  
  
"Hermione's looking for him upstairs," Mr. Weasley said. "He and Ron must have just missed each other."  
  
"Oh," Said George. Only Ron, who was watching the twins, saw the puzzled glance he gave Fred before turning back to his father. "Are you sure? Because I was just up there and didn't see him."  
  
Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows at him. "Where else would he be?"  
  
"The moon," Ron said vacantly, staring into his glass of orange juice. He was still thinking hard about Fudge, and wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. "I'm telling you, he Apparated to the moon."  
  
"Of course he did," Fred said, grinning at Ron and giving him a knowing pat on the shoulder. Ron hardly noticed, he was so immersed in his thoughts. In fact, he only looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps nearing the kitchen.  
  
"Harry dear, is that you?" Mrs. Weasley called. "Come in, we've got breakfast ready."  
  
But it wasn't Harry. It was Hermione. She was standing very still in the doorway, her comb clenched in her hand and her face pale.  
  
"Not there," She whispered.  
  
"Hm?" Mrs. Weasley said, frowning. Everybody was watching Hermione now.  
  
"He's not there," Hermione said, her voice sounding very choked.  
  
"What do you mean he's not there?" Mr. Weasley said, standing up from his seat.  
  
"I mean he's not there! Just not there!" Hermione said desperately, breaking out of her still stature. "He's not there..."  
  
"Then where is he?" Ron gasped, standing up as well and staring at his friend with a look of alarm on his face.  
  
"I don't know!" Hermione said, her voice slightly muffled as she now had her hands covering her face. "I don't know. He's not there. He's gone."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry stood, completely dumbfounded as all thoughts of what date it was, and this dream-world, and what was going on were swept from his mind as he watched the diner door close behind the swish of red hair.  
  
James. Red hair. James. *Red hair.*  
  
Harry blinked once, and then twice. Then, without stopping to think, he bolted, running out the door so fast it felt as if he had been shot from a cannon. Once he was outside and on the sidewalk he spun around in every direction, looking around wildly for the two people he just knew had to be his parents. Then, he finally spotted them, walking down the street in the opposite direction from which Harry had originally come. He stood, rooted to the ground, and stared.  
  
His mother. She had very long, wavy red hair hanging loose about her shoulders, although the breeze was blowing it off her back and it bounced behind her.  
  
His father. A good four or five inches or so taller than his mother, he had the same naturally messy black hair that Harry recognized as his own. He had his arm loosely around his wife's shoulders. They seemed perfectly at ease with one another.  
  
Again without stopping to think, Harry ran down the block until he was about ten feet behind his parents. All he could do was walk behind them, staring, with is mouth hanging open. His conscious mind seemed to have simply stopped functioning, although there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that was repeatedly telling Harry to approach them.  
  
After walking behind them for another two blocks or so, Harry finally payed attention to the little voice in his head. Approach them? Harry knew in his heart that that wasn't a good idea, not at this point at least. Transfixed by the sight of his parents, Harry was more or less content with just following them around, gawking without a care in the world, not even listening to the conversation they were having. He didn't even notice that, as they walked, houses began to be farther apart, and the forest began to line the sides of the road again.  
  
At one point he wasn't quite looking where he was going and his foot banged into a rock that was lying on the sidewalk. He stumbled, frowning down at the rock with distaste. Kicking it aside, he looked up.  
  
They were gone.  
  
Harry gave a short intake of air and stared frantically at the spot that he had last seen them, panic-stricken. What.what.where were they? What. Eyes wide, Harry looked for them up and down the darkening country road, but they were no where to be seen. Where could they have gone? Could they have Apparated?  
  
Suddenly, Harry heard voices coming from his left, in the woods. Turning around, he saw a flash of red hair through the trees. He knew immediately that they were somewhere in the forest, and he tried to figure out how they had gotten in there. Had they just walked into the forest, just like that? But no.they seemed to be walking on some sort of a path. After careful inspection, Harry saw that there was indeed a cleverly concealed path entering the forest. In fact, the only reason that he found it at all was simply because he knew that it existed, otherwise he never would have seen it.  
  
Pushing aside he underbrush, he stepped onto the path. Walking very quickly, Harry didn't even stop to consider where he might be going, but the only focus in his mind was his parents being in his eye sight again.  
  
The path wasn't too long, only about one hundred feet through all of it's twist and turns around the hillside. After he was about three quarters of the way done, Harry began to see glimpses of a large house through the trees. Suddenly, it hit him: His parents were going home! To their home...to his home...He began to walk faster.  
  
Suddenly, about twenty feet directly in front of him, was a very big house in a clearing in the woods, which his parents were approaching, their backs to him. They were walking up the steps of a front porch, but before they had even reached the door, the doorknob was turning. Someone was in the house...someone was opening the door for them...Harry was in direct view of the house, if someone opened the door from the inside, he would be in direct view of them...  
  
With a small, unwanted squeak of horror and the knowledge that he could let no one see him in his mind, Harry dived into the woods, crouching among the huge roots of particulary enormous tree. Turning around and getting onto his knees, Harry peered around the tree carefully...but then a creaking sound told him that the door was being opened, and he quickly moved away.  
  
"Hullo, Jim! Lily!" Said an extremely familiar voice cheerfully. Very familiar...with eyes so wide that were threatening to pop out of their sockets, Harry stopped breathing for a moment as he listened. "I saw you guys coming. Did you have fun?"  
  
"Perfect fun, Sirius," Lily Potter's voice said easily. "How's Harry?"  
  
"He just fell asleep," Harry heard Sirius answer. "I have to say, you guys have an extremely good kid here. He was absolutely no trouble at all."  
  
"Of course not, he's a Potter!" James said, and Harry could tell from his voice that he was grinning.  
  
"Well, that is the only problem with him," Sirius said, in an I-hate-to- admit-it sort of voice. "You know, his being a Potter. I mean, the kid's great and all, but growing up with you guys...I mean, I'm just concerned that it's going to be hazardous for his health and all..."  
  
"Ahem!" Lily said loudly, laughing. Very riskily taking a peek around the tree trunk, Harry saw James shake his head.  
  
"Ah, shut up, Padfoot," He said. "Hey, why are Lily and I waiting out here? This is our house, why aren't we coming in?"  
  
"I don't know, you tell me," Sirius shrugged. Harry saw a glimpse of him smiling and moving aside as he let Lily and James into their house. The door closed behind them.  
  
Harry sank against the tree trunk, letting his head drop onto his knees and rubbing his forehead wearily. He had no idea what to do. It was October 31st, 1981, his parents and godfather were less than thirty feet away from him, and he had no idea what to do.  
  
He couldn't very well just walk into the house and say, "Hi Mum! Hi Dad! I'm your son fourteen years from now, and you die tonight, so I'm going to try and help you! Oh yeah, Sirius, I'm also keeping you from going to Azkaban." Despite everything, Harry gave a small snort. Yeah, like that would work.  
  
But what could he do? He couldn't just sit around twiddling his thumbs while the most powerful dark wizard in the world destroyed his family. And while that stinking rat got away with what he did. But he couldn't very well march up to everyone and tell them what was going to happen.  
  
And yet, he just simply really wanted to see his parents. He suddenly hated the fact that he suddenly had the oppurtunity to see his parents, but under these circumstances, he couldn't. But he really wanted to see them.to see what they were like, to talk to them, to tell the, who he was.  
  
But he couldn't.  
  
He almost let out a cry of frustration, but restrained himself. Harry couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless in his life. He wanted to do something so badly he was almost crying with the need, but at the same time he felt that if he really did anything, it could make things even worse...  
  
Harry hardly noticed as he made a choking sound in the back of his throat.  
  
As he sat there, shaking his head and uselessly searching his mind for something that he could do, it hit him.  
  
Quite suddenly, with a dull realization, Harry realized that he had come to the conclusion that this wasn't a dream after all.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry didn't know how long he sat there among the tree roots outside the Potter's home. All he knew was that the sky was quickly darkening and he was still at a lost to what was happening to him.  
  
He might have fallen asleep at one point, he wasn't quite sure. Time seemed to have no limits or restrictions for him, all that existed for him was the sorrow and dread inside his own heart. Minutes passed by, hours for all he knew, and still he sat unmoving, his back leaning against the rough bark of the tree.  
  
Once he considered going up to the front door of the house and knocking, just for something to do to help him feel like he actually was doing something. He really was about to do it, and he had already stretched his stiff legs and climbed out from behind his little hiding place when he froze, hearing the creaking of the front door. Breath catching in his throat, he once again dived behind his now familiar tree, poking his head around the corner to see what was going on.  
  
It was Sirius. Harry's eyes widened, in all the excitement in his mind concerning his parents he had almost forgotten that Sirius was in the house at all. Harry bit his lip, straining his ears in order to hear the low murmer of voices coming from the house. Staying completely still, he listened.  
  
"Listen, James," Harry heard Sirius saying. His voice, which had sounded light and humorous before, was now very heavy. It also had another element in it, an element that Harry had only heard once in Sirius's voice, that night when he was almost captured by the dementors. The element was fear.  
  
"James, I have to say, I-I'm a bit worried about you," Sirius continued. "Okay, more than a bit. Were not exactly living in a safe world, you know."  
  
"I know, Sirius," James said quietly, his voice as heavy as his friend's. "I know. I'm worried, too."  
  
"And not just about you and Lily," Sirius went on. "But about Harry." His voice trailed off. Harry had never heard Sirius talk like this before, and he struggled to fight down the feelings that were welling up inside of him.  
  
"He's...only a baby..." Sirius was saying very softly, his voice choked with emotion. By now, Harry's ears were aching with the effort of making out his godfather's words. "I'm worried about what's going to happen to him...how he's going to grow up..."  
  
"That's why we made you his godfather, Sirius," Harry heard his mother's voice say, and he knew that she had joined the pair. "Because we know that if anything ever happened to us, you could be there when we couldn't..."  
  
There was a silence, in which Harry didn't move a muscle as he crouched behind the tree. He hardly noticed that he was losing all feeling in his legs beneath him, but he was only waiting anxiously for someone to speak. He suddenly had the wild urge to run out and tell Sirius and his parents that he had survived Voldemort, that he was all right, but he instead chewed on the insides of his cheeks until he tasted blood. He jumped slightly.  
  
"I just...I just feel..." Sirius seemed to be struggling with his thoughts as much as Harry was with his. He heard him heave a huge sigh before continuing. "I just feel like something's going to happen, you know? Like I'm dreading something that's going to happen..." Harry risked a peek around the side of the tree in time to see Sirius shake his head and comb his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe it's because it's Halloween, or I've just been hanging around Trelawny too much..."  
  
James gave what seemed to Harry a very forced laugh. "Sirius, I think you need to go home and get some sleep."  
  
"Yeah, yeah..." Harry saw him shake his head again. "I just...I think I'll go check on Peter now. Just to make sure that's all right, that everything going smoothly..."  
  
Peter? Harry's heart skipped a beat. Oh no, oh gosh, oh no...  
  
Harry heard Lily say something too softly for him to hear, and the next thing he heard was his father saying very quietly and solemnly, "Good bye, Padfoot."  
  
"Bye, Prongs. Remember, be aware, and, and..."  
  
"Be careful, Sirius," Lily said, and Harry swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched his parents say goodbye to Sirius for the last time. Sirius gave Lily a kiss on the cheek and exchanged one final glance with James before turning around and walking down the porch steps, the wind blowing in his hair. He was walking very quickly, as if he didn't want to be faced with the oppurtunity of turning around, like he was afraid of how he might react.  
  
Harry's eyes were trained on his parents as they watched Sirius's retreating back, and then as they disappeared into the house, closing the door behind them. Then, with great difficulty, Harry's eyes slid from the door to his godfather, watching his approaching face and noting with mild surprise that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.  
  
He suspects something...Harry thought, full of amazement. I always knew that he thought something was wrong at the very end, with Peter being the Secret Keeper, but I never knew that he actually suspected him...Harry knew he suspected Pettigrew because, even from a distance and from behind the wall of tears, he could see a very familiar emotion in Sirius's eyes, one which he knew very well. Set determination.  
  
As he watched his godfather walking down away from the house and towards the path, Harry suddenly realized that if he didn't move in the next few seconds, he would be in direct view of Sirius. Without stopping to think, he quickly forced his numb legs to move and scrambled around to the far side of the tree, trying to make as little noise as possible. However, it was Halloween, which was in the full swing of autumn, which meant that there was a good deal of fallen dry leaves on the ground. Leaves that were making cracking noises as Harry climbed over them.  
  
Sirius paused right on the other side of Harry's tree, listening hard as if he had heard Harry's movement. He stood there for a moment, frowning in the darkness. Then he seemingly dismissed the noises as that of an animal and continued walking down the path.  
  
For a moment, Harry was lost when it came to what to do. Part of him wanted to stay as close to his parents as possible, but he knew he couldn't...Voldemort would be arriving there that night, he couldn't stick around and let his future self be killed...but then what was he to do?  
  
The idea slammed into him like someone had just punched him out of no where from the darkness. *Follow Sirius.*  
  
Not for the first time that night, Harry didn't stop to think. Only using his impulses as a guide, Harry sprang to his feet and found himself creeping down the path after his godfather.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Finally, huh? Finally.I am so sorry about this, guys! I hope it never happens again, I really do. I'm so glad that those of you who read the Author's Note that I put up understood and aren't boycotting my story or anything. I really, really appreciate it, thank you!  
  
I actually wanted to put a lot more in this chapter than is actually in it. In the beginning some loosed ends are dropped that aren't tied up for a bit...but this chapter is already among the longer ones and I figured that you guys have been really patient long enough and I'll explain stuff in the next chapter.  
  
I hope you guys are happy, I really do! This chapter doesn't really seem to be going much of anywhere, though, it's very slow moving.  
  
Does Hermione seem a bit out of character? I don't know, she just seems sort of weird in this chapter, and Harry too...He's totally worn out at the end of the chapter, he doesn't know what's going on, he's exhausted, and everything's being thrown on top of him-both in 1981 and 1995. But he's not thinking about 1995 much in this chapter...hmm...  
  
About that little Debbie Harry thing in the beginning of the chapter...haha, I couldn't help myself. I have a friend who loves that song, and she calls it "the stalker song." I was just thinking about it while writing part of this chapter, and hey, Harry really wants to see his parents, doesn't he? Just adding a little bit of humor into an otherwise very solemn and serious chapter. (  
  
Ciria: Yeah, Richard Harris died.I don't know who's playing Dumbledore in the next movie, from what I've heard casting hasn't been approached quite yet. It better be someone good, though!  
  
I'm glad you like my story. I know I've said it before, but this is getting soooo complicated...it has more twists and turns than a maze...  
  
naughtynat: Hey, it seems like I'm getting new reviewers every chapter! I totally agree with you-isn't it better too not rush things and get something great, than to rush things and-although it was quicker--get something awful? That's my attitude toward how long it's been taking JKR to get the fifth book out. Everybody's saying, "Get it out already! I don't care if you want to perfect it, I want it now!" But honestly, wouldn't you like the book to be a product of the best of her ability, rather than being disappointed? But I don't think she could ever disappoint me... (  
  
Alexa Black: This story is getting a little crazy, huh? It's been jumping from one place to another like a bunch of those Mexican jumping bean thingies...er strange similie...anyway...actually, it's 14 years into the future, but who's counting? (  
  
When pigs fly, you know that just about anything in the world can be achieved! Hehe...flying pigs...I like that...  
  
celestial princess: Dena, Dena, Dena.yeah, I seemed to have gotten into the habit of leaving chapters off at cliffhangers.sorry! And it was Halloween, I remember...I think...yeah, it was Halloween! Now you got me all confused...it was Halloween...  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Changing history is a tedious process...hehehe...the question is, will history be changed? Not saying anything anymore...  
  
Was it you who said that Fudge wasn't going to go without a fight? Reviews are inspiring me all the time...next chapter, I think the review section for my story is going to be used for a lot of Fudge-bashing!  
  
Child-of-the-Dawn: SOPHOMOREEEEEE! Lol I'm okay now.Sirius rocks, doesn't he? I love Sirius, I wouldn't let anything too bad happen to him. Well, not at the end of the story at least. ( Midterms suck? Amen! Can I get a hallejuh (is that spelled right?) from the congregation? Yeah ignore it's almost 2 o'clock in the morning and I'm incredibly hyper-too many donuts!  
  
mo: Yet more reviewers! Yay! I did do good, thanks.some of them weren't as hard as I thought they would be.  
  
Remember, the little button down there-however beautiful you may think it to be-is not just there for decoration! ( 


	17. Sifting Through Time

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and seeing as I'm not J.K. Rowling, I don't own Harry Potter!  
  
A/N: This chapter title refers to how Colette and Hermione are investigating the past, and how other characters are actually in the past...ah, just read!  
  
Chapter Seventeen-Moving Through Time  
  
Colette sat at her desk in the Ministry of Magic building with her head in her hands. It was after hours, and she found herself fighting the overwhelming urge to just close her eyes, fall asleep, and simply forget about what was happening in her life right now...because what was happening was way too complicated for her to handle.  
  
Cornelius Fudge. She had to find some way--*some way*--to get him out of office. The question was, how? It wasn't easy to find a way to get the Minister of Magic standing on the unemployment line. Sure, Dumbledore was helping her, and the Weasleys and Lupin too, but they all just needed some foolproof way to get Fudge looking guilty in the eye of not only the International Confederation of Wizards-which regulated these things the ministers-but also the entire magical population of the whole country.  
  
And not only was making sure that Fudge was out of office a lot of pressure, but the *reasons* for making sure that Fudge was out of office were enough to make anyone collapse under the weight of it all. Resting upon whether Fudge was fired was saving an innocent man from a condemned life and giving him a right to a trial, a right everyone should have. And not to mention making his close friends extremely happy. And giving a teenage boy a well deserved home. And not only was the whole Sirius Black case one of the issues, but also the fact that the Dark Lord had returned and the Minister of Magic himself failed to recognize his existence...For after spending yet another hour alone with Dumbledore, Colette had come to another conclusion that changed her life-that Voldemort had, indeed, come back to power.  
  
After what had changed her views on just about everything in the past couple of days, she was prepared to believe anything by now.  
  
*How come Fudge doesn't see the signs? It doesn't take a true Seer to see how Voldemort is making an impact on the world,* Colette thought desperately, shaking her head at Fudge's ignorance. *If I had known about what really happened after the third task of the Tournament and in Southampton, I would have believed everything, if someone had told me...* But no one had told her, and that's what bothered her. Why hadn't she been told about what had happened? She was the head of the entire legal department in the Ministry, she, of all people, should have been told.  
  
*And since Fudge kept everything from me, now it's too late to change things!* Colette thought angrily, regretting that she hadn't looked into the situation of the tournament at the time, which was strange, because she didn't like to regret things. She had been brought up being taught that you had to live with the consequences of the world, and you couldn't go change the past.  
  
But now, for the first time that she could remember, she wanted to reject her family's ideals and just let herself mourn about the past, rather than worrying about the future, as her mother had always told her.  
  
"The future..." Colette sighed, staring down at the mass of papers that were spread across her desk, her blond hair slipping out of its ponytail and into her face. She had been going through all the records, looking for anything that she could use against Fudge...but there was nothing. Nothing! At the peak in Voldemort's power, shortly before his downfall, the Ministry had almost stopped keeping records of events altogether, the world was in such a panic. There were attacks happening left and right, and nobody could keep track of what was going on, and the Ministry had left so few good official records from that time...that was the problem...  
  
Letting out a growl of frustration, Colette slammed her fist against her desk, making the papers on top of it shoot into the air and then float back down again. This was all Fudge's fault! Every problem that they were all going through right now, in the end, it all came down to Fudge!  
  
"How could such a complete idiot managed to become minister in the first place!?" Colette muttered furiously, fighting against the urge to drop her head on her desk and wallow in the hopelessness of it all.  
  
What she really did, though, was shake her head and sit up straight, rubbing her blurring eyes and trying to focus. She was strong. She could do this. They wouldn't have given her this job if they didn't think she could handle the pressure, and she knew that she could do it. She just needed to relax, and focus...  
  
In order to relax and focus, Colette needed one thing. This one thing was the flow of humanity; it is how they got things done. Without this one thing, Colette wasn't sure how she could have survived the hard times at the Ministry.  
  
She rose to her feet, stretching her legs and smoothing her hair. She needed a break. Suddenly, she found that she was humming a famous Muggle song that she had once heard, except that she had changed the words a bit to fit her purpose.  
  
"Coffee is a girl's best friend..." She sung softly as she walked to the door of her office. Coffee, indeed. Colette loved coffee so much, she thought she would have married it if it were at all possible. Coffee was her *life.*  
  
And coffee was what she needed right about now. She hurried off, thinking that maybe she'll take it black right now, no sugar and cream. She needed it to be strong, because it was going to be a long, long night.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry crept down the path behind his godfather, being careful to stay a good fifteen feet or so behind Sirius lest he hear him or see him out of the corner of his eye. It was very hard to keep him in his eyesight because it was so dark outside, and Harry could barely see his dark shape moving ahead of him in the forest. He would have gone off the path and into the trees to move closer to Sirius and stay to the side of him, but he was afraid that he would make too much noise on the leaves and Sirius might hear him, or that he might wander too far off the path in the dark. So Harry stayed far behind Sirius, stumbling on roots and rocks, and chewing on his tongue to avoid exclaiming out in surprise as the wind whipped branches in his face or he slipped on some dry leaves. *I wish I could use my wand,* he thought wistfully, feeling the piece of wood in his pocket. He wanted to give himself some light or just a way to keep himself from falling all over the place, but he didn't want to risk using magic with Sirius right in front of him.  
  
Harry was greatly relieved when he found himself practically falling out of the forest and back onto the sidewalk. Pulling leaves and twigs out of his hair, he quickly looked around for Sirius, and then stopped dead, staring around in every direction.  
  
Where was he?  
  
He looked around wildly for his godfather, but no, he had gone...he was no where to be seen...he must have Apparated...  
  
Harry sank to his knees, cradling his head in his hands and fighting back the urge to scream in frustration. *Great, now what? I don't know where Sirius is, I can't go to my parents, and, and...*  
  
"...and why the hell am I here in the first place?!" Harry finished aloud, standing up quickly and stamping his foot down onto the ground like a little child having a tantrum. He began to mutter furiously to himself, seeing as there was no one else to talk to and nothing else to do.  
  
"Why am I *here*? I must be dreaming. I have to be dreaming! This is just some weird, totally crazy dream..." Harry found that he was pleading with himself. He didn't really believe that this was a dream, but oh, how he *wanted* to think that this was a dream, and that it was only a matter of time before he woke up. "Wake up, Harry! Wake up! You've got to get out of here! There's got to be some way to get out of here.oh, *why* am I here?"  
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted with wry amusement that his conscious self was moving toward the edge of hysteria. *Oh wouldn't that be funny?* The back of his mind thought calmly, as if it were an observer watching his conscious self go crazy. *If Hermione ever lets her free, wouldn't Rita Skeeter just absolutely love this? "Harry Potter Tragically Loses His Mind After Having a Nightmare." Or whatever the heck this is.*  
  
Somewhere deep inside of him, Harry fought to pull himself together. "I. Have to keep. My *wits* about me," He firmly said aloud to himself after he had calmed down and was able to think clearly. "It doesn't matter where or what all of this is, I still can't go around losing my mind."  
  
He brushed off his pants, biting his lip very hard as he looked around him. Clenching and unclenching his hands, grinding his teeth together, Harry suddenly started to tremble uncontrollably. Here he was...stuck in this place...and no visible way to get back...he found himself on the verge of hysteria again; blood pounding in his ears as fear overwhelmed his thoughts. He staggered a little closer toward the forest, his leg skimming the bushes as he reached out and grabbed onto a tree for support.  
  
And then suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his scar.  
  
Gasping more with surprise than pain, Harry dropped to a crouching position, pressing his left hand against his forehead and using his right hand to fumble around in his pocket for his wand. But...wait a second...there were two wands in his pocket...*two wands?*  
  
Then, as quickly as it came, suddenly the pain was gone. Harry fell backwards from where he had been crouching and hit the ground hard. He sat there, stunned, his head swimming. What had just happened?  
  
Scrambling to his feet, Harry looked around nervously. The only noise was Harry's heart pumping quickly in his chest from the rush of adrenaline. On impulse, he backed away from the woods, noticing that he appeared to be the only person on that street. *But,* he thought to himself wryly. *I bet I'm not the only person here...*  
  
"Voldemort," Harry muttered aloud. He had lingered around in that area too long. The Voldemort from fourteen years ago had come to murder his parents, and his future self certainly couldn't be murdered along with them.  
  
He turned, planning to make a break for the center of Godric's Hollow so he would be surrounded by people and wouldn't feel so unprotected, when suddenly from behind him an icy cold hand gripped his shoulder with an iron grip and the now familiar pain shot through his forehead. He froze for a second in fear, then opened his mouth to scream but before he knew what was happening, he heard a spell whispered by his attacker and was unable to open his mouth. He tried to kick his attacker, but the spell had seemingly paralyzed his legs and feet as well and he couldn't move them. As if he were in a dream, he heard another whispered spell and his wrists shot towards each other behind his back as if each of them were a powerful magnet. He struggled to move them, but they seemed to be bound together by some invisible force.  
  
Although he was unable to do anything and was completely helpless, he was still stubbornly trying to wriggle himself out of the arms of his attacker. His attacker seemed to be annoyed with his movements and hit Harry-hard-on the head with what appeared to be his elbow. That stilled him for a moment, and in that moment Harry was conscious-through a daze of pain in his scar- of himself being pulled into the darkness of the forest.  
  
The next thing he knew, Harry found himself lying on the forest floor, staring up at a horribly familiar face and listening to a horribly familiar voice.  
  
"*You!*" The voice hissed dangerously, and Harry unwillingly shrank back in fear. His train of thought was only moving down one track of the railway, and he could barely focus on what was going on, he was only thinking one thing.  
  
*That's it...I've totally messed up...The old Voldemort had found me, and he's going to see how I look like my father...and...and...* His head pounded and swam. What was he going to do now?  
  
"Potter! *What are you doing here?* How did you get here? *What?*" In a glimpse of Voldemort's eyes glinting in the dark, Harry didn't see the emotion he had expected to see if Voldemort had thought he had bumped into James Potter while on the way to kill him-Harry supposed he would have seen surprise-but instead saw panic.  
  
Voldemort reached forward and grabbed his shirt in his iron-like grip, yanking a terrified Harry closer to him. Still unable to move or make a sound, Harry's eyes widened and he bit back the fear that was rising steadily inside of him.  
  
"You're supposed to be in 1995! *How did you get here?* Where's Wormtail? What's going on?" Voldemort hissed wildly.  
  
Harry could only stare. How did *he* know that he should be in 1995, rather than 1981? And what's all this about Wormtail? What's going on, indeed...  
  
Voldemort let go of Harry, letting him fall onto the ground where he lay, watching his captor pace near his feet, paralyzed with fear now more than the spell.  
  
"Wormtail was supposed to meet me here, but he didn't-why didn't he?" Voldemort muttered to himself, very softly. Harry held his breath and tried to calm down the loud beating of his heart in order to hear. "He should be here, and now I still have to find me, and go to the Potters...and kill all three of them this time..."  
  
*What is he talking about?* Harry's mind was reeling. He would have looked for a way to make a break for it while Voldemort was having his little soliloquy there, if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't move.  
  
"And now all my plans are going to be ruined-and *what are you doing here?*" Voldemort turned again to Harry, glaring at him with such a fierce gaze that made Harry shrink away. Then he turned away, shaking his head and resuming his pacing.  
  
"We were going to do it, Wormtail and I. And the younger me. We were going to do it, Potter!" He spat at Harry suddenly, his eyes blazing. "We were going to kill all three of you! You and your parents! Change the past for the better! Make it so *I* was the one who reigned over the last fourteen years, not those idiotic ministers!"  
  
Harry tried to tie together all the loose ends that Voldemort was dropping at him. It seemed that this was the Voldemort from Harry's time, not the one from 1981... that he wanted to change the past somehow...so that Harry had never defeated him as a baby...  
  
Suddenly, Voldemort whipped his wand out from somewhere in his robes. For one wild and terrifying moment, Harry thought that Voldemort was going to kill him-with his wand pointed at him and that horrible glint in his eyes. But then, the moment passed as Voldemort waved his wand and suddenly Harry could open his mouth, but his arms and legs still remained immobile.  
  
He seized this opportunity to try and figure out what was going on. "So this is the past, are you saying?" Harry said quickly. "We're in the past?"  
  
"Halloween, 1981!" Voldemort cried, so loudly that the normal sounds of the forest seemed to stop for a moment. "We're before, Potter! Before everything! I came back here to try and change everything, but it has failed. *Why* has if failed? Wormtail and I were going to come back here and find the younger me, and change everything! I had everything planned out...I had Time Turners...it was all going to work!"  
  
Time Turners...For a moment, Harry was suddenly plunged into a memory of an event that he couldn't remember ever occurring...He saw, as if an observer watching himself through his mind's eye, himself walking into a room...with Pettigrew there, and a Time Turner...  
  
"My dream," Harry whispered, glad that his voice had failed him and he was unable to speak louder, because he knew that Voldemort would have questioned what he had said. *That dream I had, but it wasn't really a dream...I took the Time Turner, that's how I got here...but how? What...?* Somehow, it seemed that Harry-through his dreams-had in some way physically penetrated himself into where Pettigrew had been, and he had taken the Time Turner meant for Pettigrew...was that how he had gotten here?  
  
"And somehow...some way...you are here, and Wormtail isn't," Voldemort turned slowly towards Harry, staring at him. "How did you get here?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry said softly, unable to make his voice sound any louder. And in truth, he didn't know. He knew that he was *there* but specifically how? No idea.  
  
"Of course you do, Potter! You are here by none other's doing but yourself!"  
  
"I really don't know," Harry said, more firmly this time. "I fell asleep...and then I woke up in a barn..."  
  
"I don't believe you!" He hissed, the words dripping with mockery.  
  
"Well, whether you believe me or not, I'm telling the truth!" Harry said, his voice rising. "I really don't know how I got here, honestly!"  
  
"Well, however you got here! You're somehow here! And no Wormtail! What has happened!" Harry shrank away again, dreading his rage. Suddenly, Voldemort let out a terrible cry of anger, and Harry shivered violently. It was so eerie and chilling it seemed to echo off the very air itself.  
  
Suddenly, so quickly that Harry was unsure of what happened for a moment, the magical forces that had been paralyzing and binding his arms and legs were released. He could move again...but he didn't dare move. He lay there, frozen, wondering what had just happened, staring up at Voldemort with wide eyes. He didn't seem to have noticed, however, as he continued his pacing and mutterings of anger.  
  
Harry didn't stop to think, but acted instead. As soon as Voldemort was within the right distance, Harry-quick as lightening-stretched out his foot and with all the force he possessed kicked the Dark Lord in the back of the ankles, throwing him roughly to the ground.  
  
Scrambling to his feet, Harry reached into his pocket, but then remembered that, for some reason, he had two wands in his pocket and was consumed in a moment of wild panic before he realized that he didn't need his wand. Voldemort-the all-powerful Dark Lord, the one everyone feared--was out cold.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Colette felt as if she were going to have a heart attack.  
  
She had been digging farther and farther back into the depths of British magical history, trying to find anything--*anything*--that would help her in her search of a way to incriminate Fudge.  
  
All night, she had been going through all the very old records and trying to find ways to come into contact with anyone who had worked in the Ministry long ago, and was still alive. But, despite all her research-and through countless cups and cups of black coffee--she had gotten absolutely, positively no where.  
  
Until...after her eyes had closed on their own accord for the fifth time in the last few minutes, and she had gazed blearily at the paper on her desk, she suddenly sat up straight, staring. The piece of paper in front of her was an old document from 1917, but that wasn't what mattered. She was looking for the words that had caught her tired eyes. *The International Confederation of Wizards meeting of 1450...*  
  
The famous meeting. Probably the most famous meeting that the Confederation had ever had. Every witch or wizard child knew about it in some form or other, for it was then that all of the major, basic principles of the magical world were developed.  
  
Colette quickly scanned the document. It had only mentioned the meeting, nothing more, something about some old wizard defying one of the laws of the Confederation. But that was what had sparked her interest.  
  
Maybe...if they were lucky...maybe...Probably one if the worst possible offenses that Fudge could have committed was going against one of the basic principles that the Confederation had come up with. If Colette could find a way that he had illegally gone against one of the Confederation's laws, then he would be out of the Minister of Magic spot, for sure!  
  
But in order to do that, she needed a copy of the laws that the Confederation had come up with for all magical people, a piece of paper stating exactly what those laws were. It shouldn't be too hard to find, though...the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had a room in the building used as a library with various legal documents in it, it would surely be there.  
  
She hurried off to the library.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Hermione sank down onto the couch in the Weasley's living room, clutching a cup of tea in her hands and trying desperately to ignore the terrible pounding in her head.  
  
After Hermione had gone into the Weasley's kitchen to tell them that Harry was gone, Mr. Weasley had ordered all of them into the living room while he went upstairs to look around Ron's room. he came back down a few minutes later with a Time Turner, saying that he had found it on the floor next to Harry's bed. It was set for October 31st, 1981.  
  
They had no idea what to make of this. Why would Harry go back to the day of his parent's death and You-Know-Who's downfall, leaving a Time Turner in 1995 with no way to get back to the present? It just didn't make any sense. They all assumed that Harry was in the past because the Time Turner was right near his empty bed, but *why?* And how on Earth did he get a Time Turner in the first place? No one could figure it out, even Fred and George-who normally would have been making some outrageous suggestions to what Harry was doing to lighten the mood-were at a loss for words.  
  
Ten minutes after a bit of the excitement had calmed down, they were all still sitting in the living room, Hermione, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny watching as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley tried in vain to contact Dumbledore.  
  
"I still can't get him!" Mr. Weasley burst out in frustration at one point. "Where is he?"  
  
"Why you are you having so much trouble reaching him?" Ginny asked nervously, swallowing hard. "Could something have happened?"  
  
"No, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently, looking over sympathetically at the teenagers where they sat. "For all we know, Dumbledore could just be visiting Sirius and that's why we can't get through to him. I don't think there's anything to worry about. If something had happened, they would have contacted us."  
  
"But how could they contact us if Dad has been using the fireplace to try and contact them?" Ginny asked quickly, and Hermione noticed a small tone of panic in her voice. Despite her own insecurity and fear, she reached over and lay a hand on Ginny's trembling arm.  
  
"My goodness, everything is in such chaos, it's just like the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley murmured, glancing out the window.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, frowning slightly at her. Hermione sipped at her tea nervously.  
  
"Well, back in those days, everything was in disarray," She said quietly. "Attacks were happening left and right, nobody knew how to protect each other, and everything was so disorganized that, for a short time before You-Know-Who was defeated, the Ministry stopped keeping records altogether."  
  
"No records?" Hermione said curiously, lowering her voice as Mrs. Weasley had done and putting her teacup onto the table beside the couch. "None at all?"  
  
"Damn it!" Mr. Weasley cursed suddenly, making everyone jump. He muttered under his breath, and Mrs. Weasley moved closer to the teenagers. She started to speak again, very softly this time so they had to lean forward slightly to hear her.  
  
"None at all," She whispered. "There are very few records from those days. Everyone was in very real danger. Many people were taking advantage of the chaos and breaking laws as well, but keeping records wasn't a real priority at the time. We could have lost you-Fred, George, Ron. And Hermione, although your parents weren't aware of it, you could have been killed, too. Ginny," She turned to her youngest child. "You are very fortunate to have been born at a time after the Dark Lord was defeated, even though, after he was gone, there was still panic remaining. There were so many Dark wizards, people were finding out their friends had been working for Voldemort..."  
  
"But no records? No records open to the public?" Hermione muttered, staring at her knees. "That means that if someone who was in a position of power at the time were to do something bad or illegal, they could get away with it? No one would know?"  
  
Ron and Ginny, who were sitting on either side of her, were staring at her when she looked up.  
  
"What are you going on about?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow at her after giving a glance towards his father. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said loudly, ignoring Ron. "So if someone were to do something illegal-something really, really *illegal*--they could have gotten away with it during this time?"  
  
"Why, yes," Mrs. Weasley said, giving her a strange look. "Yes, I suppose so. Hermione, dear, what is it?"  
  
"So if Fudge were to do something illegal then...no one would ever know..." Hermione breathed out, so softly that she was hardly heard, and everyone around her simultaneously said, "Hm?" But Hermione just shook her head slowly, staring at her knees again.  
  
"That's it!" Mr. Weasley burst out. "I'm going to go there myself! Goodbye!" He grabbed his cloak form it's hanger, there was a small *pop*, and before anyone could even say goodbye, he had Apparated.  
  
Hermione hardly noticed, however. For an incredible idea was beginning to form in her head.  
  
  
  
A/N: YES! My goodness, this has been long! I shall take PARTIAL blame- hehehe-for why this has taken just about forever to get out: For the first week or two after I got the last chapter out, I'll admit that I was lazy- just relaxing for a little after all the workload from school. But then, the three-day weekend in which I was planning to finish writing this chapter, I got sick. Like, really sick. Sick like I-threw-up-eight-times-in- about-four-hours-and-I-had-to-go-to-the-hospital-and-get-an-IV-in-me- because-I-was-so-dehydreated sick. Yeah, sorry, couldn't help that one! And, then my vacation got really busy and so on and forth.  
  
Oy, I am sooo sorry! I didn't expect to be sick, I didn't expect to be visiting my grandmother, which took up a lot of time...oy...I really hope that this never happens again! Sorry! Ah, you're probably all really pissed.  
  
Do both Harry and Voldemort seem a little...er...weird in this chapter? Like out of character? I dunno, just a little.hum I think I'm getting a bit paranoid.  
  
Ciria: Yep, Hermione and the Weasleys are a bit panicked. But, as another reviewer pointed out, Hermione works well under pressure and sees the things that other people don't.  
  
Yeah, isn't it cool how, when your writing about a magical world, it's just simple humor to talk about someone transporting himself to the moon?  
  
Yuffie-Girl: If Harry fails to change anything at all, then he'll be history, too? Hmmm...you mean, like, he won't be able to go back to his own time? This story has a lot to do with making choices...  
  
Yeah, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are all a bit similar, but then there are the distinguishing characteristics of each of them that make them different- like, you said it, Hermione's bookishness. That bookishness is part of what makes her the Hermione we love.  
  
jerseypike: Yay! More people like my story! How did Harry get into the past...hm...well, he got the Time Turner, didn't he? But the question is, how did he get the Time Turner?  
  
celestial princess: Where in the second book does it say that? Cause I was looking, but I don't know where to look...if your right, oh well! Guess we'll just have to go on with the show.  
  
Child-of-the-Dawn: Sigh. I guess being a freshman isn't that bad! "Sirius is so hugable?" What? Lol, looks like someone has a little love interest. (  
  
Sorry, but Harry's not going to be able to see any McGonagall/Dumbledore romance! But are you really for that? That's one of the most unusual pairs...but then again, I've also heard of Dumbledore/Snape, and that just completely freaks me out!  
  
Tinuviel: I think you got the measure of Rowling's Hermione really well. "She's usually the one to look everywhere else while the others freak out..." Hm. That's what she did in the second book, when she figured out about the pipes and the basilisk and stuff. She's sort of doing that in this chapter, but she's not looking for Harry, really. She's one of the few of them who is keeping her head, and she's beginning to get herself involved in another aspect of this story...remember how Sirius said he had the feeling that she would play a big part? She's not physically in the chapters as much as some other characters, but the part she is going to play is extremely important!  
  
mo: Heck, I'm so happy that I got this chapter out, I might be dancing a jig later on tonight...but you didn't need to know that... ( 


	18. Ideas, Hopes, and Dreams

Disclaimer: Do people actually read these things? Does anyone reading it think that I actually claim to own Harry Potter? Sigh. People are stupid.  
  
A/N: Fifth book coming out on June 21st! Yay! Yay! Yay! It's about time! Yay! Also, just so people don't get confused about what time everything is happening (because I got myself confused for a moment), here's a little overview so people don't get confuzzled: Hehe...I like that word, confuzzled...anyway, at the end of the last chapter at the Burrow, it is the morning. Everything before that was the evening, and now it is the morning, like the end of the last chapter. Keep in mind that none of this concerns where Harry is, because he is in a different time altogether! Man, I sure hope this chapter makes sense and you guys understand it! A lot of stuff happens, and it jumps around a lot...oy...  
  
Chapter Eighteen-Ideas, Hopes, and Dreams  
  
Harry stood, staring over Voldemort's unconscious body, wondering what he should do now. The pain was fading away in his scar, and he could think clearly again.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he carefully thought everything over in his mind-he was in 1981. Voldemort was in 1981 with him, and Harry had just knocked him out. But, soon enough, the real Voldemort from 1981 was going to come and try to kill him and his parents.  
  
"And you were going to help him," Harry whispered, staring at the body of the Dark Lord lying on the forest floor, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath that he took. "You and Wormtail were going to join together and help him, and you were going to try to kill me as well...well, that certainly didn't work out!"  
  
And he was right. Somehow, someway, Harry had gotten in 1981 in the place of Wormtail, and with Harry's Voldemort lying unconscious, it was safe to say that things weren't going as he had planned.  
  
But some things hadn't changed. The Voldemort from 1981 was still out there somewhere, as dangerous as ever. And he was still going to go to the Potter's home, and still going to kill Harry's parents, and still not succeed in killing Harry...  
  
Presently, teenage Harry looked around nervously. Voldemort was out here somewhere, it was probably only a matter of minutes before he showed up and killed Harry's parents...he had to find someway to get out of here...  
  
He ran over the possibilities in his mind-he could take his Voldemort and hide, waiting it out while history was made and then worry about getting to the present, when he had more time to figure things out. Yes, that was probably the best thing to do, because he didn't have much time now...  
  
Then the thought slammed into him out of no where, so unexpected that Harry froze his movement and his breath caught in his throat. *I could warn my parents!*  
  
There was silence. Harry's mind seemed to have stilled for a moment, and he stood, not moving at all. He didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge it when an owl hooted and flew overhead. He could warn his parents...warn his parents...  
  
Could he? Harry sank to his knees next Voldemort's body, staring at the ground. He could warn his parents...if he warned his parents about what was going to happen to them that night, then they could run...they could go somewhere else and be safe, and get rid of Wormtail...  
  
He could save them... All his life, Harry had wondered what it would have been like if his parents had never died, if he had grown up with them...oh, he would have been so much happier... But his parents were dead, and he never had the chance to even get to know them, to speak with them just once...  
  
And now, he had the opportunity to change all that, if he wanted to...he could save his parents from dying, Voldemort would never have gotten to them, and Harry would never have gotten his scar...he wouldn't have defeated Voldemort...  
  
And then a little voice of reality started to remind him that if Voldemort had never found his family, not only would he never have killed Harry's parents, he would have never attempted to kill Harry, so he would never have gotten defeated. He would be fine, he would be living.  
  
And he could kill more people.  
  
Harry gulped, staring fearfully around him. If he warned his parents, he could have the family he had always wanted, but Voldemort would still be in power and causing more murders. If he didn't warn his parents, they would die...but Voldemort would be out of the picture for years.  
  
He had a choice to make. Save his parents, save his family, save Sirius from going to Azkaban, save people he cared about...or save the world.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sirius was in a considerably better mood than he had been a few days ago as he lay in his hospital bed at St. Mungo's and talked to Albus Dumbledore.  
  
His old school professor always seemed to have that effect on him, ever since his Hogwarts days. No matter how down Sirius was feeling after a girlfriend broke up with him or he got a week's worth of detention, Dumbledore always seemed to be able to sense it, and a simple smile from him would-strangely enough-always make him feel better.  
  
This was what was occurring now. For Dumbledore always had a way of seeing sunny side of the street, so to speak, and for the past fifteen minutes the two of them had been sharing fond memories of Lily and James. Slowly, however, their conversation had turned to Sirius's trial, and for the first time Sirius allowed himself to consider what would happen to Harry if he wasn't granted his freedom.  
  
Where would he go?  
  
He was just about to raise this question to Dumbledore when there was a knock on the door. Dumbledore looked at Sirius, who nodded.  
  
"Come in!" Dumbledore called out. The door opened. It was one of the secretaries from Sirius's section at the hospital. He stared at her in surprise. Hardly anyone other than people that Sirius knew personally or members of the Ministry had dared to come into his room before, they were all too frightened.  
  
This secretary didn't seem to be an exception, either. She gulped noticeably as she walked in, chewing on the side of her lips and bouncing slightly from foot to foot. Sirius gave an inward sigh, realizing that it was going to take a while for people to get used to him.  
  
The secretary looked around anxiously, although Sirius could tell she was carefully avoiding making eye contact with him. "Mr. Albus Dumbledore?" She asked in a small voice, looking at Dumbledore, nervously tucking a strand of loose brown hair behind her ear.  
  
"Yes, that's me," Dumbledore said calmly, looking at the young woman with polite curiosity.  
  
"We've gotten several attempted calls from a place called 'the Burrow,' with someone trying to get through to you," The secretary had spoken quickly, as though she wanted to get this experience over and done with, as fast as possible.  
  
Dumbledore was looking at her carefully. "Is the speaker in a fireplace?"  
  
"N-no, sir," The secretary stammered, her eyes venturing away from Dumbledore and making a quick flick over to Sirius. After doing this, she leaned her weight backwards slightly, as if she were trying to get closer to the door.  
  
Sirius, who had been watching the secretary rather than listening to the conversation, felt a sudden rush of anger toward her after her implied movements. Dumbledore, he knew, noticed what she was doing as well, but he chose to ignore it. Sirius earnestly wished that he could do the same, but he had never been one for ignoring things. Years ago, he had been very straight forward, ready to show his feelings, he had even been a bit arrogant. However, those traits of his had been lost-temporarily or for forever-during his time in Azkaban.  
  
He kept his mouth shut.  
  
"No?" Dumbledore questioned, frowning slightly at her over his glasses.  
  
"No, h-he...the calls never came completely through. And then, th-they stopped all t-together, and we caught that the c-caller began to call the M- ministry of Magic." The secretary's stuttering was beginning to get on Sirius nerves. He inwardly sneered at her. *Aw, the poor lass is scared out of her wits,* he thought with dry amusement  
  
"Thank you," Dumbledore nodded at her. She fell back onto her heels and practically jumped out of the room. Sirius stared stonily for a moment at the place where she had last stood before turning to Dumbledore as he began to speak.  
  
"That must have been one of the Weasleys trying to get through to me," He said. A small crease appeared between his brows. "It must be urgent, if they were trying to contact me at here and the Ministry..." He muttered under his breath.  
  
Sirius stared at him. "What?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm going to have to go and see what this is all about. Goodbye." With a swish of his robes, he was gone, leaving Sirius to wonder what was going on.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Remus Lupin walked into the Ministry of Magic building, taking comfort in the familiar sight of Ministry officials bustling to and fro with various papers in their hands. It was a familiar, and therefore comforting sight. He took a deep breath, looking around. He hadn't been there in a long time.  
  
The building was very old. Remus wasn't exactly sure how old it was- he had never really been one for history, and boring old Professor Binns hadn't helped stimulate an interest-but he knew that it had built hundred of years ago...although nearly not as old as Hogwarts. He enjoyed looking at the old English architecture that made up the building. It wasn't straight and streamlined like some of the modern office buildings were beginning to be, but rather it was filled with elaborate and beautiful designs.  
  
Remus glanced off into a corner, and a flash of memory suddenly hit him.  
  
He remembered one time, many years ago, when he had stood in that corner with Lily and another friend of their's from Hogwarts, Hannah. Lily had been pregnant with Harry at the time, and as they stood there she had gotten many smiles from members of the Ministry. While acknowledging them and smiling back, she had commented to Remus and Hannah how the overall feel of this place reminded her of Muggle office buildings, the people and the busyness. "But the building itself is far more beautiful. The Muggles don't use much creative architecture as much as they used to," She had told Hannah, who had been interested in the differences between Muggles and magical people.  
  
Hannah...Remus hadn't seen her for years...  
  
However, Remus shook his head as if to clear it of his old memories. He had come all the way to London for a reason-to help Colette.  
  
Before the deaths of Lily and James, Remus had considered going into law as a profession. After he had graduated from Hogwarts, he had been an intern in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But then his life had changed, and everything had changed.  
  
However, he had decided to help Sirius in a more direct-not to mention easier-way than going combing through all of Yorkshire looking for anything that might be of interest. He decided that he would use his small knowledge of the law to help Colette search for evidence that might help them incriminate Fudge.  
  
After asking a secretary and then being directed to where her office was, he found it quickly and knocked on the door.  
  
No answer.  
  
He knocked again. Still no answer. Frowning slightly, he tried the doorknob; it was locked.  
  
He sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing his shadowed eyes and wondering where she could have gone. After a few seconds he closed his eyes, tilting his head against the wall, while dimly noticing how tired he was.  
  
Then he straightened up suddenly.  
  
There were footsteps coming down the corridor. He straightened quickly again, his eyes snapping open. He tugged at his clothes, trying to smooth out the wrinkles.  
  
A man with limp black hair and small brown eyes, dressed in official Ministry clothes, came around the corner right next to Colette's office. The man stared at him in surprise, and Remus stared back.  
  
"Can I help you?" The man asked after a moment. He roamed his eyes up and down Remus's body, taking in his unkempt and tired appearance. Once again, Remus was nervously conscious of how he looked, and discreetly tugged at his clothes again.  
  
"No, I don't think..." Remus began, then stopped himself. "Well, actually, maybe you can. Can you tell me where Colette Villons might be?"  
  
The man hesitated for a moment before asking, a bit suspiciously, "Who wants to know?"  
  
"My name's Remus Lupin. We know each other a little. We have...friends in common."  
  
"Lupin, eh?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The man pressed his lips together for a moment before sighing and speaking again. "I normally wouldn't know, but I saw her only about twenty minutes ago. She was on the way to the legal library." The man paused, but then he seemingly decided that Remus was trustworthy before saying, "Go all the way to the other end of this hall. Make a right, and then make the first right that you see after that. It's right down at the end of that hallway."  
  
Remus nodded. "Thank you." He turned to follow the man's directions, walking swiftly down the corridor.  
  
"Oh, and Lupin?"  
  
Remus turned around, raising his eyebrow at the man. "Yes?"  
  
To Remus's surprise, the man smiled grimly at him. "I would be helping her do research, too, but I need to investigate some other stuff in this whole big mess. It seems like anyone who will listen to Dumbledore is getting involved. So he's assigned me my own crap to deal with." Then he turned and was immediately gone.  
  
Remus stared at the place where he had last seen the man, dumbfounded into silence. *What just happened?* He wondered. Had that man known about everything that was going on? Was everything that was happening "this whole big mess" that he had referred to?  
  
Remus shook his head, and turned to go to the library. Things were getting weirder by the minute.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Hermione remained sitting on the Weasley's couch with Ron several minutes after Fred, George, and Ginny had left the living room and gone their separate ways. Mrs. Weasley remained as well, bustling around the room, folding clothes and straightening pictures, dumping Ginny's notebooks into a pile and Ron's candy wrappers into the garbage.  
  
"Mum always starts cleaning the house when she's nervous," Ron whispered in Hermione's ear. "In some strange way, I think it relaxes her. My mum's a bit odd," He added, grinning at her.  
  
Hermione was only half listening, however. She was still staring at her knees and thinking about Fudge, about how chaotic and disorganized things were back before Voldemort's downfall. Ignoring Ron, she spoke to Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"So you said that...that...if someone wanted to get away with something illegal back in 1981 and before, they could have?"  
  
"Why yes, dear," Mrs. Weasley straightened up, brushing stray strands of red hair out of her eyes. "I've already said that many times. Why are you so interested in it?"  
  
"Because Fudge could have...Fudge could..." Hermione was talking very slowly, because the idea was still forming in her mind. She struggled to mentally grasp it before her thoughts slipped away from her. She took a deep breath, and tried to say exactly what she was thinking, while trying to make it as clear as possible.  
  
"Fudge could have used the chaos to help himself...he could have used everybody's panic to cover it up, and not given people trials..."  
  
"What are you talking about...?" Ron started to ask, staring at her. But Mrs. Weasley shushed him, watching Hermione very carefully.  
  
"And the public wouldn't know about it, because they think what the media told them is the truth!" Hermione continued, beginning to get excited and talking faster now. "The public would never guess...for Sirius, right, the Ministry made it all look as if there was solid evidence that he was guilty, so Fudge didn't need to give him...or...or...or anyone else for that matter, a trial! Because everything was all chaotic, and not many small crimes were looked into!" She finished triumphantly.  
  
"Hermione, are you saying that all those other people who were convicted of being Death Eaters might be innocent after all?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking at her with widening eyes.  
  
"I'm...well...*suggesting* it," She swallowed, squirming a bit under Ron's stare. "I'm a bit surprised that we didn't think of it before actually. If Sirius was wrongly convicted, who's to say that other people weren't, as well?"  
  
"Wait, back to Fudge," Ron interrupted, glancing from his mother to his friend. "He wasn't the minister back then, was he, Mum?"  
  
Hermione, who had started to respond, closed her mouth with a snap. In her excitement, she hadn't thought of that.  
  
"No, he wasn't," Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "He was the Junior Minister of some department, I don't remember which, but I'm sure that it wasn't Magical Law Enforcement. Even if he was, he still wouldn't have had the power to decide whether Sirius were to get a trial or not."  
  
"But *now* he's the minister, and he has the power to give Sirius a fair trial *now*, doesn't he?" Hermione persisted, her usual determination shining through her words. "But he's not..."  
  
There was a short moment of silence in which all three of them looked at each other, thinking. Suddenly, Hermione stood up and nodded, as though a decision had just been made.  
  
"We're going to go see that Colette Villons person," She said firmly. It wasn't a request, it was a statement.  
  
"You mean that person who is trying to help Sirius?" Ron questioned, standing up as well to look at her in the eye.  
  
"That person also happens to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ron. And I heard Dumbledore saying yesterday that she was going to try and find a way to get Fudge out of his office." Hermione said. Then she looked at Mrs. Weasley. "And I think I can help her! We have to go to the Ministry."  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked from Hermione to her son, then back to Hermione. Then she nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Yes. Alright. Get your brothers and sister, Ron. We're leaving."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Colette had been on her way to the library the night before when the entire weight of her exhaustion hit her. Unable to focus, she had called it a night, deciding to go home and get some rest. Now the next morning, a part of her regretted what she had done-she had lost some valuable research time. Another part of her, however, told her that she would have gotten no where this morning if she hadn't gotten some sleep, and she knew that part was right.  
  
She had only been in the library for ten, maybe fifteen mintures at most before he came. At the time was completely engrossed in searching for the notes taken at the International Confederation of Wizards meeting of 1450, with a huge pile of books on the table beside her, when she heard the sound of throat clearing behind her.  
  
She looked up to find a tired looking man with a pale complexion and light brown hair standing beside her. A man that looked strangely familiar.  
  
The man looked at her for a moment before speaking. "Hello."  
  
"Hello..." She said cautiously, feeling a bit irritated that she was being interrupted.  
  
"I've come to help you do your research, looking for anything that might incriminate Fudge..." The man continued, scanning the shelves of the books that was standing next to her.  
  
Feeling more than a little irritated now, she interrupted him. "Do I know you?"  
  
"Yes, well, sort of. You know who I am, but we haven't met in well over a decade...my name is Remus Lupin." He lowered his voice slightly. "I'm a friend of Sirius Black's..."  
  
She stared at him. "*The* Remus Lupin? The werewolf Remus Lupin? The Marauder Remus Lupin?"  
  
A small flicker of a smile passed over Lupin's tired face for a moment, but was quickly gone. "That would be me. We met once or twice, a long time ago...Sirius had introduced you to me."  
  
*That's why he looked so familiar!* Colette thought. Outwardly, however, she merely nodded. "Yes, I remember a bit...and you've come to help me?"  
  
"Yes. I figure that helping you with all this Fudge business would be a bit more effective than what I was doing before."  
  
"Well, a little help would always be greatly appreciated," Colette said graciously, grinning slightly before turning around to the table where her books were. She pulled out two chairs from the table, sitting down in one of them and pulling the pile of books closer to her. Then she lifted off the top half of the pile and dropped it onto the table space in front of the other chair with a thump.  
  
She turned to Lupin, allowing herself to grin more widely now. She waved her hand, ever-so-graciously, at the pile of books. "Help yourself."  
  
Smiling a bit of a relieved looking smile that lit up his face, he sat down next to her, and together they set to work.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*I could save them if I wanted to! I could save them! They could be alive!* One part of Harry thought desperately. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree near where Voldemort's unconscious form lay. He had brought his legs up to his chest, and his head was between his knees.  
  
But another part of him had an argument to match that statement. *But if Voldemort never gets to you, then innocent people would die!*  
  
He was having a horrible inner struggle. There would be fleeting moments where a part of him would become something fierce, a part of him that Harry didn't know and didn't like at all. That part of him would say, *Forget about those people! I have a right to happiness, too! If those people die, their families are unhappy, but if my parents die, I'm unhappy! Why should they be the happy ones, and not me!*  
  
But then another part would respond. *Because there's more of them! Voldemort wouldn't just kill one other family if he lived past this night, and that would mean that more people would suffer! And besides, their innocent, they have no say! I have a choice...*  
  
And that was the problem. This was a choice that he wished with all his heart he didn't have to make. But wishing doesn't mean anything, it doesn't do anything. Actions speak louder than words.  
  
Harry didn't know how long he sat there for, his head swirling with parts of himself that he didn't even know existed up until then. All he knew was that he had to make a decision, and soon, because the 1981 Voldemort would be coming soon...  
  
No matter how much he wanted his parents to be alive, no matter how much he wanted to have a real family like everybody else, Harry knew that deep in his heart he wouldn't be able to live with the fact that he had caused the deaths of maybe hundreds of people just to make himself happy. Sure, it was genuine want, a genuine need to have a family-it wasn't a superficial wish, but rather something everyone should be granted, a family.  
  
And then, it all came down to the fact that more kids would probably become orphans if he saved changed history in such a way. Harry could live with being an orphan, he had for fourteen years, but he couldn't live with the fact that he had caused other kids to become orphans, made other kids go through the same pain that he had. He couldn't do that.  
  
So he decided, in the end, to not save his family. It was easily the hardest decision of his life, but his mind was set.  
  
As soon as he came out of the haze-like state that he had been in, he refused to let his mind think about the decision he had just made. That, he could think about later, after he got home. If he survived the getting home, that is.  
  
For he had to take Voldemort with him. He couldn't leave him here in 1981, but had to take him back to 1995. Problem was, how could he get back...  
  
Voldemort had said something about a Time Turner. Of course! Harry slapped his forehead. Duh... Voldemort would definitely have a Time Turner, he wouldn't have left no way for him to get back to the present after his work was done.  
  
Crawling away from the tree, Harry stretched his cramped legs, then knelt down next to the body of his enemy. As much as the thought made him nauseous, he had to find that Time Turner. Holding his breath and swallowing back a wave of disgust, Harry began to poke into Voldemort's robes, looking for the Time Turner.  
  
Luckily, it didn't take him long to find it, because it was just hanging around his neck. As soon as Harry had it in his hand, however, he realized that he didn't know how to use it. This was different from the one he and Hermione had used in their third year, this was larger, and was obviously designated to travel through a larger amount of time.  
  
His legs were beginning to cramp again, he needed to get into a more comfortable position in order to examine the Time Turner. He shifted into a sitting position, his hand that was holding the Time Turner turning slightly as he moved. Suddenly, with a horrible feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach, Harry watched with increasing terror as Voldemort opened his eyes.  
  
They just stared at each other for a moment, not moving, not speaking. Then Voldemort sat up quickly, letting out a cry of rage that seemed to shake Harry's very rib cage. Terrified, Harry could only stare, his hand still clutching the Time Turner. But Voldemort was quicker. He grabbed a handful of Harry's shirt and lunged forward, taking the arm that was holding the Time Turner and twisting it. Harry struggled to hold onto the Time Turner, but then he let out a cry of pain and dropped it.  
  
Suddenly, the colors around them swirled together, and the next thing he knew Harry was no longer in a dark forest being pinned down by Voldemort, but was rather lying on the wooden floor of a dimly lit room with Voldemort next to him. It took Harry a moment to realize that this was one of the rooms that had been in his dream with Frank Bryce over a year ago...  
  
With fear flinging itself at him like an unexpected slap, Harry realized where he must be. The Riddle House.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Well, it's been exactly three weeks since the last chapter was out. Sigh. Getting better, I guess... Well, at least now I know that January is a horrible month in my school: The first few weeks, tons of work, then last week, tons of work plus finals. Sigh. I usually don't mind school, I really don't, it's the homework I hate... Anyway, the past few days we've hardly gotten anything, so I took advantage of my time and worked my butt off on this chapter. It's the longest one yet, slightly over ten pages.  
  
Hey, where'd all my reviewers go? You guys disappeared!  
  
Feyla-KittyKat: For some reason, I didn't respond to you last chapter...or something...ah, I'm confused. Anyway, thanks for telling me about the 2 chapter I thing! I must have accidentally uploaded the same chapter twice. It should work now.  
  
Voldemort...the way I see it, he doesn't want to kill Harry because he wants to figure out what the hell he's doing there, you know what I mean? Like-where's Wormtail? What's happening? How did Potter get here? He probably thought he was in perfect control of the situation, although in reality he was totally panicked and was completely outraged at the fall of his plans. Question now, kill later. You see? Anyway, that's what I had in mind while I wrote it.  
  
Speaking of out of character, is Mrs. Weasley...? Lol, nevermind... 


	19. Tricks and Treats

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, blah blah blah, and all that jazz.  
  
A/N: This chapter took a lot of working things out on my part, because a lot of things need to happen simultaneously in order for the story work out- I hope it makes sense! We're also coming nearer to the conclusion of the story...hang in there, guys...  
  
"A man is innocent until proven guilty." --The Common Law of England  
  
Chapter Nineteen-Tricks and Treats  
  
Harry lay there, petrified with fear, hardly breathing as he tried to gather his wits together. As soon as he found that he could use his tight and contracted muscles, he sat up to find Voldemort standing over him, giving him the definition of the phrase, "a death look."  
  
Harry scrambled to his shaky legs. Looking around the room quickly, he found that most of it was in shadows and he couldn't even see the wall, let alone a door or window. Trying to hide his fear, he turned an expressionless face to the Dark Lord.  
  
"Potter," Voldemort said in his soft, dangerous voice. "You have ruined everything. Everything that I planned to do is now in shambles, and I can blame you."  
  
Harry didn't say anything. *Don't provoke him, just keep him talking. I can buy myself some time.* Then it hit him-time for what? He had absolutely no idea what he was going to do.  
  
Pulling himself out of his thoughts Harry watched as Voldemort slowly raised his right hand, looking at Harry with an expression of pure hatred on his face. Harry stared at the hand, uncomprehending. What was Voldemort going to do? Slap him?  
  
Suddenly, Voldemort thrust his hand forward so it was out at arm's length. And then, without any warning, Harry was off the ground and felt as if some powerful invisible force was pushing him backwards very fast. Taken by surprise the sudden loss of control over his body, he was unable to brace himself for when, flying backwards, he was slammed into the wall.  
  
Sharp pain shot through his back, and Harry slid down the wall and crumbled onto the floor, grinding his teeth together in an effort to keep from crying out in pain. Lying in the darkness, he was only able to sense when Voldemort's shadow loomed over him with his hand lifted again, and was completely unprepared for when his head was snapped backwards against the wooden wall.  
  
The world spun around him, and his head throbbed unceasingly. Somewhere behind his haze of pain, Harry was horrified. Voldemort was performing wandless magic; he was using some sort of invisible power to control Harry's body.  
  
Voldemort knelt beside him, making tutting sounds. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Potter. Giving up already? Let's make things even then, shall we? A wizard's duel, eh? Stand up, Potter."  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. It felt like he had a concussion, he was on the verge of passing out, he couldn't stand up and fight a duel!  
  
After a moment of silence in which Harry stared blearily around him, unable to focus, Voldemort said more sharply, "Stand up, Potter!"  
  
Using the wall for support, Harry struggled painfully to his feet, and stumbled out of the shadows, his head searing with pain from the light. He was probably going to die; he knew that now, but not in a fearful ball in the corner. He blinked, taking in the sight of his enemy, standing with his wand out. He felt strangely helpless without the wall to lean on, and the world swam around him, making him dizzy. He felt nauseous.  
  
*Yup, I have a concussion,* The back of Harry's mind confirmed, then he proceeded to think in chopped sentences. *Must stay awake, can't fall asleep. Fall asleep with concussion, maybe won't wake up.*  
  
Harry stood there, unable to do anything. His nausea was coming in torrents now.  
  
"Get out your wand, Potter. I want to end this, once and for all. And without that freak accident we had last time."  
  
Wand? Oh, of course, wand. This is a duel, after all. Nope, can't have a duel without a wand, nope!  
  
Harry reached into his pocket, feeling the two wands that lay there. Two wands? He couldn't remember why he had two wands. He chose one at random, pulling it out. Somewhere a conscious part of his mind commented that he was nearing delirium, and being delirious during a duel wasn't exactly the best idea in the world. He took a deep breath, trying to focus himself, and staggered forward, his back screaming protest.  
  
"And now," Voldemort said, so softly that Harry, in his daze, could hardly hear him. "It begins. *Expelliarmus!*"  
  
The wand shot out of Harry's hand. Fully conscious now, but physically unable to do almost anything, he sank to the ground while the world spun around him. He thought he was going throw up, but all the same fumbled for the other wand. Voldemort didn't know he had two...heck, he didn't even know why had two...  
  
Voldemort laughed, a horribly chilling sound. "Lose your wand, Potter? Well, now I have it. And I'm going to put it to good use. I wonder how many times a wizard has been killed with his own wand?" He lifted Harry's wand and held it forward.  
  
And then... "*Avada Kedavra!*"  
  
Harry braced himself for the blast that never came. After a moment of silence with nothing happening, Harry wondered if he had indeed died and just didn't know it yet. But when someone was dead, were they still in pain from their mortal injuries?  
  
Ignoring the pounding of his head, Harry looked up, and saw with disbelief that Voldemort was holding...a *teddy bear?*  
  
For a moment, Harry was sure that he must have died and that he was having some sort of fantasy, but then...that teddy bear looked awfully familiar...  
  
Harry stared at it as Voldemort turned it around and around in his hands, disbelief etching his inhuman features. As he turned it around, Harry saw that the bear was holding a sign...a sign that said "Gotcha!"...  
  
Fred and George had given Harry some of their trick wands, the ones that turned into teddy bears when they were being used...and one of them had still been in his pocket...  
  
That means that the other wand in his pocket must be...  
  
Without stopping to think, Harry whipped out the other wand, recognizing it with triumph as his own. Summoning all the strength and power that he could manage, he pointed it at Voldemort.  
  
"*Expelliarmus!*"  
  
Voldemort flew backward, crashing literally through the wall and out of sight, causing the wall to collapse. Luckily, Harry was far enough away from the wall not to be harmed. But the part of the ceiling that the wall had supported had just lost its base.  
  
That whole side of the house seemed to be about to collapse. Harry noticed what was going to happen before it actually occurred, and with a yell twisted around and covered his face.  
  
And he had been right. That whole side of the house was falling apart. Splinters flew at him and wood was flying everywhere, but miraculously nothing hit Harry. For a moment, Harry glanced up on an impulse, and saw a familiar bald headed man lying among the rubble, but his mind was unable to process a lot of information at that moment.  
  
After that side of the house seemed to have done its share of falling apart, Harry uncovered his face and lay down across the rubble, relief washing over him.  
  
*Aha,* He thought with an inward smile. *I did it.*  
  
And then he passed out.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
After running out of St. Mungo's and Apparating to the Ministry, Albus Dumbledore walked quickly through the witches and wizards that crowded the lobby when he heard his name called out.  
  
"Dumbledore! Albus-Dumbledore!" Dumbledore turned around as a breathless Arthur Weasley came hurrying around the people that were scattered across the lobby. He watched him carefully, waiting patiently until the younger man caught up with him.  
  
"Dumbledore..." Mr. Weasley gasped. "Something awful has happened...dunno how...but Harry's gone, and a Time Turner..."  
  
"What?" Dumbledore asked sharply but quietly, his heart suddenly beating very fast.  
  
"I tried to get through to you at St. Mungo's, but couldn't...Harry's gone! His bed was empty this morning, and there was a Time Turner next to it...one of those special Time Turners, the ones that you can use to travel over years..."  
  
Dumbledore stared at him, his mind quickly processing this information and trying to make sense of it. "When did you find out that he was missing?"  
  
"About a half hour ago," Mr. Weasley said nervously. "I've been trying to contact you..."  
  
He was interrupted, however, when a man with somewhat limp black hair and startlingly small brown eyes ran up to them. He was very pale.  
  
"Excuse me, Arthur," The man muttered, pushing himself in front of Mr. Weasley so he could talk to Dumbledore. Sputtering in surprise, Mr. Weasley staggered to the side.  
  
"What's this about, Sean?" Dumbledore asked, frowning slightly at him.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt, but an intern in my department has just detected..." He glanced at Mr. Weasley nervously, as if he wasn't sure if he should continue.  
  
"I have a feeling that whatever you have to say, Sean, Arthur should hear it, too," Dumbledore said urgently. "Now, what is it?"  
  
"He..." Sean sighed, visibly disturbed. "Dumbledore, do you know of a place called 'the Riddle House'?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, well, he...my intern--and, I checked this out, Dumbledore, it's legitimate-has detected an extraordinary amount of magical activity at this place. Extraordinary amounts of *Dark* magical activity, and then...huge amounts of light..." He took a deep breath and then asked the question that he seemingly had wanted to ask for a while. "Dumbledore, isn't the Riddle House where You-Know-Who used to live?"  
  
None of them spoke for a moment until Sean broke the silence by answering his own question. "I believe that You-Know-Who is probably there now, and caused the large amounts of dark magic. But as for the other extreme..."  
  
"Extraordinary amounts of light magic..." Mr. Weasley murmered. "Harry...?"  
  
"Harry?" Sean said, confused. "Potter? Why on Earth would he be there?" He paused as he noticed that the two other men were staring at each other. "Wait a second...what's going on? Did I miss something?"  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore said, looking at Mr. Weasley carefully. "Yes, you did. Sean, go contact the Department of Magical Catastrophes and send a rescue team to the Riddle House, now. Arthur, come with me."  
  
"O-okay," Sean sputtered, looking very surprised. Ignoring him, Dumbledore turned and began walking quickly away, with Mr. Weasley at his heels.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was very lucky that Remus was there in the library to help Colette, for it was him who quickly found the outline of the International Confederation of Wizard's meeting. Once he did, the two of them crowded over the book that it had been copied into, Colette frowning because she couldn't find what she was looking for and Remus frowning because he didn't know *what* they were looking for.  
  
"So...uh..." Remus said uncomfortably, raising his eyebrows slightly as Colette's long blond hair slipped off her shoulders and onto the table. "What exactly...uh...what exactly are we trying to find?"  
  
"Something that Fudge hasn't been doing," Colette said shortly, running her fingers down the length of the yellowing pages.  
  
Remus stared at her. "What?"  
  
She sighed and sat up, throwing her hair over her shoulder. "We're looking for a specific action that was made illegal during this meeting."  
  
"And that action would be...?"  
  
Colette didn't answer, but instead leaned back over the book. Remus sighed and joined her, shaking his head slightly. Apparently she didn't know exactly what they were looking for, either.  
  
He had barely begun scanning the pages again when he suddenly he heard her mutter, "That's it!" Remus saw the book being whipped out from under his nose and looked up to see her holding it up at eye level.  
  
He leaned back in his seat, looking at her warily. "What's it?"  
  
"Innocent until proven guilty!" She turned to him, her eyes shining with excitement.  
  
Remus simply stared. After a moment of silence, he blinked and raised an eyebrow slightly at her. "Meaning...?"  
  
"That was one of the most important laws that were established during this meeting!" Colette said excitedly, pointing at the book and gesturing obviously flustered with triumph. Remus, however, still didn't understand why she was triumphant.  
  
"Yes," He agreed, speaking very slowly. "It was. But what, exactly, does this have to do with anything-"  
  
"Don't you see!" Colette cried loudly, jumping to her feet. Remus gave a start in surprise, then looked around nervously. Luckily, probably because it was the morning, there weren't people there to be annoyed with her.  
  
"Fudge isn't doing it!" She continued, pointing wildly at the book in her hand. "Fudge isn't following that old law, 'innocent until proven guilty'! He's not giving Sirius a trial, Remus, he's not following by the laws of the Confederation," Her voice lowered, and she sank back into her chair, eyes shining. "He isn't follow the one of the basic--and most important--rules of the International Confederation of Wizards...there'll be an enormous lawsuit after people have found out what he's done! He'll *never* be able to remain in office..."  
  
Remus was staring at her, at a loss for words, his mind reeling. She was right...of course she was right...after breaking that law? He'll be impeached...  
  
The two of them were silent for a moment, dumbstruck by their findings, hardly noticing when the door to the library was banged open and then closed, and when there was the scurry of feet across the wooden floor. In fact, they only acknowledged the noises when they looked up to see Hermione Granger and several members of the Weasley family standing and looking at them anxiously.  
  
Both parties started to speak at once. "Ms. Villons..." Hermione had begun nervously, at the same time that Remus jumped up, yelling, "Molly!"  
  
There was a pause. Then, "You're never going to believe what I found!" Hermione and Remus said together. They both stared at each other.  
  
There was another surprised pause. Finally, Ron broke the silence, babbling nervously. "You found out something? So did we! I mean, it was really Hermione, but it doesn't matter, cause when we show the public what we've found, Fudge'll never be able to stay in office! And you..." He turned to Colette, eyes wide. "You're the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! You could definitely do something! But wait a second..." He turned his eyes on Remus. "Professor...Professor Lupin? What are you *doing* here?"  
  
"Ron, shush," Hermione said condescendingly, interrupting Ron and stepping forward. "Ms. Villons, I'm, my name is Hermione Granger. I'm...I'm a friend of Harry's..." She glanced at the Weasleys. "And, well, I-I think I know a way to get Fudge out of the Minister position."  
  
"*You* do?" Colette said incredulously, staring at the teenage girl. "Well, Remus and I, we just found a way too-"  
  
"You did?" Hermione interrupted without thinking, feeling slightly disappointed. She had been sure no one else would have thought of what she had. "About the chaos in 1981, and Fudge doing something illegal?"  
  
Colette could only stare. "What?"  
  
"Ms. Villons, everything was very chaotic in 1981," Hermione said, starting to speak very fast. "The Ministry was very disorganized, and lots of people were doing illegal things and getting away with it because a lot of the strict law enforcement was lost. And, well, Fudge didn't give a lot of the convicted Death Eaters trials. He just let them all go to Azkaban...and nobody noticed, everybody just wanted the Death Eaters to be locked up, and lots of people were never given trials, including Sirius, and that's illegal! It's enough to keep him out of office for good, isn't it?"  
  
Silence. Colette and Remus stared at Hermione, amazed. Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny were also giving her looks of awe. It was Colette who spoke up first. "I didn't even think of that..." She breathed. "It never occurred to me that he's not just doing this to Sirius, he did it to other people too, back before You-Know-Who's downfall..."  
  
She looked at Mrs. Weasley, then back to Hermione. "You see, what we figured out was that Fudge wasn't following by the old law, innocent until proven guilty...one of the most important laws of the magical world, established during the International Confederation of Wizards meeting of 1450...you know, just that he wasn't giving Sirius a trial. I never thought to apply it to everything else..."  
  
"And Hermione didn't think of that?" Ron said with mock incredulity, grinning at his friend. "She's usually the one who figures out all the bookish stuff..."  
  
Colette gave a soft laugh, then turned to Remus and Mrs. Weasley. "We have to go bring all this information to Dumbledore," She said, slightly urgently. They nodded, and she swept away, Remus and Mrs. Weasley at her heels and the five teenagers behind them.  
  
"It's high time someone interrupted that awful performer from his soliloquy," Fred muttered to Ginny, who giggled as they hurried out of the library after the adults. Silently, she agreed. It was about time.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
When Harry woke up, he thought he was dreaming.  
  
He could hear people yelling and the sound of feet moving across the rubble. He didn't need to open his eyes to understand that people were clearing away parts of the fallen house.  
  
Instead of moving or calling for help, Harry just lay there with his eyes closed, not budging a centimeter. There was an awful pounding in his head, and his back hurt horribly.  
  
After a few moments, he opened his eyes, suddenly realizing that his glasses were no longer on his face. As a result, the world seemed blurry and indistinct to him, although he could still see the people moving closer to him, clearing away the rubble. Dimly, he saw that they were wearing Ministry uniforms.  
  
He closed his eyes again. They would get to him eventually, and there was no rush. He couldn't move because of the pain in his back, and was too tired to open his mouth and call for help. So he just lay there, waiting for them to find him.  
  
As he did so, memories of the previous events came rushing back at him, and he remembered that Voldemort had gone crashing through the wall, knocking practically the whole building down. He wondered if Voldemort had gotten away.  
  
He opened his eyes again, trying to figure out whether he was inside or outside. Lifting his head slightly, he could see that he was lying underneath what remained of the ceiling, but the rest of the collapsed house was open in front of him. A breeze blew through the chilly morning air, (Morning? Harry was extremely confused-when had it got to be morning?) ruffling Harry's hair. Feeling some of his strength coming back, Harry struggled to sit up a little more, trying to see the Ministry members better. He was making progress, his back wasn't screaming in protest quite yet, but then there was a sudden sharp pain in his scar.  
  
Gasping in surprise and pain, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his teeth together, letting his head fall back onto the ground. Feeling very dizzy all of a sudden, he decided that maybe he should just lie there after all.  
  
He had only been lying there in silence for another minute or so, when he felt one of the ceiling boards that had been lying at his feet being moved away, and heard a male Ministry member giving a cry of surprise.  
  
"Look! Look! It's-it's him! It's Harry Potter! Look-"  
  
Harry could tell that people were crowding around him now, and he slowly opened his eyes, struggling to stay focused as the world swam around him. He found himself looking up into the blurry faces of several wizards, most likely members of a rescue team.  
  
"We need a medi-wizard here, now!" One of them that were closest to Harry shouted. The loud noise increased Harry's headache, and he groaned slightly, turning away from the people.  
  
"Here, I've got him," Said a soft, familiar voice. Harry felt himself being hoisted up into a sitting position. He wondered how he was sitting up, it didn't seem that he had enough strength to do that, but then he realized that the person had Harry leaning against him.  
  
"Here, it's alright. Here-" The voice was saying. Suddenly, Harry felt his glasses being pushed onto his face. Blinking, he stared up into the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Giving a small cry of surprise, Harry struggles to sit up more, but Dumbledore pushed him back down. Finally finding his voice, he began to croak out his question in a chopped sentence.  
  
"Voldemort...did you find, Voldemort-"  
  
"Voldemort got away, Harry," Dumbledore said, still speaking very softly.  
  
"No!" Harry whispered, trying to sit up again. "No-"  
  
But Dumbledore was stronger, and pushed him back down again. "Harry, listen to me," He said. "We lost Voldemort...but we found Peter Pettigrew in the rubble. Alive," He added, answering Harry's unspoken question. "Alive, but unconscious. We captured him."  
  
Relief washed over Harry as a seemingly ancient memory returned to him. Right before the house had collapsed, he had glimpsed a bald man lying on the ground...Pettigrew! He was alive! That meant...that meant that Sirius...  
  
"Now relax, Harry. Don't worry, everything's under control. Your safe now."  
  
At first Harry tried to fight his fatigue, tried to stay awake so he could talk to Dumbledore, but it was no use. He closed his eyes and fell back into Dumbledore's arms, half conscious, and yet feeling more safe and content with the world than he had for a long time.  
A/N: This was going to be out a lot earlier (like, two weeks ago about) but then I got covered in homework and pretty much forgot about working on this. Well, here it is.  
  
Just a very random note-in one chapter, the one with Hermione meeting Harry on the street, I think a lot of that chapter was cut off or something, I don't know why, because I remember writing more than what was on FanFiction.Net. So if you're just reading my story now, and that doesn't make sense, sorry, I'll try and fix it.  
  
Hehe...since the whole "innocent until proven guilty" thing was originally an English principle, I thought it would be appropriate to use here. I had a lot of fun writing the beginning of this chapter...those trick wands weren't put into the story for nothing, you know? I've had the idea that Harry might do something like that for a long time now...months, maybe even a year.  
  
kateydidnt: Really? Favorite author's list already? Thanks a lot!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Haha, it's alright-but what, you think I didn't update for like three months? ( Yeah, Harry's smart and a truly phenomenal character, he did the right thing.  
  
Colette/Sirius? Colette/Remus? Well, you'll see! (  
  
Ginny1946: Thatta girl, you kept on reading! It gets a lot better as you go, doesn't it? I hate the first ten chapters or so. ( You don't need to review every single chapter, it's alright. I'm glad that you like the story!  
  
?And upside down?: I'm trying to update fast, believe me. Just think of it as those annoying commercial breaks during the most exciting parts of a TV show. (  
  
celestial princess: The bad guy losing it is always so much fun! Harry did something, you see?  
  
(Nun, hay, gimmel, shin!)  
  
Tinuviel: I wanted to avoid Harry talking to his parents, basically because that would make things more complicated than they already are, and make things hard for Harry as well. Yeah, we all knew that he would do it...Harry's very generous and caring, he really cares about other people. If he had been able to talk to his parents...yeah, you're right, it would be very bittersweet, both helping and hurting him.  
  
Wow, someone made the connection between the work that Remus and Colette were doing and what was going on in Hermione's head! Once again, your very perceptive, you realized that they might have something to do with each other! Was it you who I told that Hermione wasn't physically in the chapters as much as a lot of other characters, but the part she played was one of the most important? ::nods:: Uh-huh.  
  
Nikora: Thanks a lot! Wow, so many people like it...well, your wish is my command.  
  
mo: I'm going, I'm going... ( Oh, and in case you didn't know, you're my one hundredth reviewer! Yay! ::throws up confetti:: (  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Ah, you're alive! Don't worry, I don't care about the reviews, as long as you didn't abandon me. ( Save Cedric? Huh? Lol, where did that come from? 


	20. What Goes Around, Comes Around

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, and seeing as I'm not JK Rowling, I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
A/N: 4/23 I uploaded this chapter days ago, but something went wrong and it didn't work! Ugh...I'm just realizing this now...  
  
A/N: Chapter 20! Wow! When I started planning out this story months and months ago, I only thought it would be sixteen chapters or so... And this would have come out a LOT earlier, sorry guys, but my muse refused to cooperate...evil muse...  
  
This chapter is dedicated to my grandfather who died in the early morning of March 4th, 2003.  
"No one can put a chain around the ankle of his fellow man without at least finding the other end of it about his own neck."  
  
--Frederick Douglass  
  
Chapter Twenty-What Goes Around, Comes Around  
  
Hermione was nervous.  
  
She and Colette had come up with an amazing idea about getting Sirius to have a trial and incriminating Fudge for all the illegal things that he had done. They had all gone over the evidence needed for proving their point many times. They had planned how they would try to reason with Fudge. Mrs. Weasley had looked up the witness accounts from the Muggles who had been on the street that Pettigrew had blown up, to tie up some remaining loopholes. Remus Lupin had done some research on the person who was minister in 1981-apparently, he had found some very relevant information, although Hermione didn't know what it was. Colette had gone to Dumbledore with their information and evidence, who had quickly brought it all to the attention to members of the International Confederation of Wizards. When all the various research had been presented to them, they had wanted to go and fire Fudge right on the spot, but Colette had another plan in mind.  
  
All in all, Hermione should have felt very confident, but she couldn't but help feeling a little apprehensive. She had seen Fudge at his most ignorant, his most stubborn, and she knew it was very hard to reason with him, if anyone could at all. And besides, the lives of innocent people were hanging in the balance.  
  
*Don't be so foolish,* She told herself scoldingly. *Everything will turn out alright.*  
  
She only wished that she had proof of that.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Cornelius Fudge had come into the Ministry that morning to find the majority of the building in a frenzy. People were running to and fro, some shaking their heads unbelievingly, others seemed in a state of shock. The general feelings that hung about in the air-confusion, panic-unnerved Fudge greatly, and his gut feeling was telling him that something was going on.  
  
No one payed much attention to him as he hurried off to his office, trying to find some peace and sanity away from the outside world. The whole tone of the Ministry that morning and the fact that there was a quiet urgent-ness to everything reminded him eerily of the days when Voldemort had been in power, and everything had been wildly chaotic. Of course, he hadn't been the Minister of Magic then, but he still remembered it all quite well...  
  
Shaking himself out of the memories that were suddenly swarming at him, he didn't bother to inform his secretaries that he was there, but just he rounded the corner to his office...and stopped dead.  
  
Standing in front of his office door was a large amount of people: Remus Lupin, several members of the Weasley family, a bushy haired teenage girl whom he recognized to be a friend of Harry Potter, and Colette Villons.  
  
He stared at them for several seconds in downright shock, and they stared back. After a moment, be broke the silence, although he was so surprised that he started speaking in chopped sentences. "What are you...why are you..."  
  
"Hello, Cornelius," Colette said smoothly, stepping forward from the group. "How are you this morning?"  
  
"F-fine," Fudge stammered, looking around at them all warily.  
  
"Mm," Colette's murmur was the only sign that she had heard-or cared about--Fudge's response at all. But before she could speak further, Fudge stepped forward, standing up a little straighter. He had gotten over his initial surprise, and was beginning to feel a little annoyed.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, mentally gathering imaginary power around himself and trying to sound imposing. "What's going on?"  
  
"What's going on, indeed," Colette agreed, throwing Fudge's question back at him. He sputtered in surprise; he was beginning to get extremely confused. What, exactly, *was* going on?  
  
Colette stepped up so that she was very close to him, motioning for the rest of her party to stay back. "Cornelius," Her voice was quiet with practiced ease, but unmistakably dangerous sounding at the same time. "Just tell me this-did you or did you not defy the International Confederation of Wizards?"  
  
Fudge could only stare at her, his mind in turmoil. Had she gone *mad*? After a moment, he regained his composure and spoke. "I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Yeah, you do!" Ron burst out suddenly, jumping forward. Hermione reacted first and tried to shush him, but it was no use. He was caught up in a large wave of fury. "You do know what she's talking about! You defied the Confederation! You're not giving people trials! You...you..." He waved his hands around wildly, trying to express the feelings he couldn't quite put into words. "I don't know why you're doing it, but you are! And you *know" you're doing it, you ridiculous, you pathetic, you evil, you...you-"  
  
Mrs. Weasley obviously knew her son well enough to know what words were most likely going to fly out of his mouth next, and she grabbed his arm and roughly yanked him back. He tried to resist and had opened his mouth to yell some more when Hermione hissed at him, "Shut *up*, Ron! You're going to make it worse!" As soon as he felt the impact of his friend's words, he closed his mouth abruptly, his cheeks slightly pink-but with anger or embarrassment, none of them knew for sure. Hermione, noting unhappily that some of their chances were flying out the window, figured it was a mixture of both.  
  
Fudge was starting to shake with barely suppressed fury, his teeth clenched together tightly. "How dare-how dare you let this boy speak like that in front of me! How dare-how *dare*--" He said hotly and loudly, his voice rising as the anger boiled up inside of him. Hermione could feel the dread growing in the pit of her stomach. This really wasn't going very well at all. "I have no idea what you're talking about! I don't know what's going on, and I would appreciate if someone told me!"  
  
*He really doesn't know what's going on,* Colette observed with steadily growing disbelief, staring at the man in front of her. *He really doesn't. Ron's words are falling on deaf ears...* If truth be told, she would have liked to burst out into a shouting match with Fudge herself, but she bit her tongue and held onto something that Ron had not-composure. She took a deep breath.  
  
Colette had begun to become slightly pale as she stepped even closer to Fudge, looking him steadily in the face. He stared back, beginning to feel a bit frightened by the fire that was burning in her blue eyes.  
  
"Cornelius," She said shortly, then took another deep breath, pausing to choose her words carefully, something else that Ron had not done. "Are you aware that you have been committing an offense made strictly illegal by the International Confederation of Wizards? That certain decisions you have been making are likely to get you fired from your job?"  
  
He stared at her again, before his pompous nature began bubbling up inside of him. "How could you-how could you accuse me of such a thing! I would never!" Indignation burst into his throat, and he found that he was unable to control himself, although somewhere inside of him a sick feeling was beginning to develop. "My decisions are made in the best interests of the public, no one else-"  
  
"You make your decisions to help the public?"  
  
"Yes! Yes, of course! I just said that, to help-"  
  
"Even if those decisions are illegal?"  
  
Fudge tried yell some more, but he found that his vocal cords had chosen this moment to stop working. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, no sound coming out. Colette took advantage of his speechless- ness and continued talking, drawing power into her voice.  
  
"After the Dark Lord was defeated, many people who were suspected of being Death Eaters at the time were thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Why do you think that is, Cornelius?"  
  
Fudge had found his voice again. "You can't blame me for that!" He cried, almost triumphantly. His composure was long gone. "I didn't have any power over the trials, I wasn't the minister at the time!"  
  
"No, you weren't," Colette agreed slowly. Hermione had unhappily told her about that little fault in their plans before, but now-as Colette thought about it-she realized how everything was coming together, how it was all making sense. "You weren't Minister. But, Russell Neider was, wasn't he? Yes, of course he was. And he was a friend of your father's, was he not?"  
  
"*What?*" The sound burst out of Ginny before she could stop herself, and she slapped her hand across her mouth to keep from shouting out more, her eyes wide.  
  
There was silence in the room. Remus Lupin, who had been standing in the shadows behind the Weasleys and Hermione, found his mind working double time to figure out what Colette was getting at. They hadn't talked about his at all... But meanwhile, Hermione was giving herself a mental slap on the head. Russell Neider! Obviously! *How could I have not seen it before?*  
  
Fudge, apparently, was confused as well. When he spoke, he tried to make his words sound imposing and reasonable, but he instead tripped over them in surprise. "Wh-what, exactly, are you saying?"  
  
"I'm just *saying*," Colette answered with a casual air, waving her hand slightly. "That you could have been *influenced* by him, that is all."  
  
"No," Fudge began angrily. Fudge might be blind at times, quite pompous, prejudiced, and ignorant, but he wasn't stupid. "You're saying that Russell Neider and I had some sort of conspiracy going on...not letting people get trials--"  
  
"No, I'm not," Colette interrupted calmly. The Weasleys, Hermione, and Remus behind her couldn't help but admire how well she was handling the situation. "I am not saying that at all. I am saying that you were possibly *influenced* by Neider. He was a friend of your father's, you knew him personally, he helped you with your campaign. He taught you politics. You two probably had the same ideas on the same issues." After a moment, she added quietly, "The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."  
  
"So-so you're saying that-that Russell taught me to disobey the law?" Fudge asked. He was trying to sound imposing again, but it didn't work as he began to stumble over his words as his former confidence began to dissipate.  
  
"No," Colette replied evenly, never flinching or showing a drop in her composure. She was taking control of the situation, showing-and quite successfully, at that-that she had an answer to all of his questions and doubts. "I'm saying that both of you show similar patterns in the time that you were ministers. You both disobeyed the law when you thought what you were doing was right. Didn't you just say before that your decisions are made in the best interests of the people? That's always good to do, I applaud you for that. But one has to follow the law as well."  
  
There was another silence. No one made a sound. Colette took yet another deep breath and continued.  
  
"The laws for wizards weren't written hundreds of years ago as a list of suggestions, Cornelius, as I'm sure you already know. People were-and still are-expected to follow them, because they were created for that reason-to be followed. And that applies to everyone. We're all equal, right?" She paused, seeming to be genuinely waiting for an answer.  
  
"Yes, of course we are," Hermione said quietly after a moment. "Everyone deserves the same rights."  
  
"And that includes a right to a trial," Remus concluded, speaking up for the first time, making Fudge back away slightly, his face pale. "Everyone deserves the right to a fair trial. Everyone. How would you feel if you were sent to Azkaban for something you didn't do, and hadn't even been given a chance to prove your innocence?"  
  
"But he's guilty! He's guilty!" Fudge burst out suddenly, making Ginny jump. Fred and George-who had remained uncharacteristically quiet throughout the confrontation--gave each other looks of annoyed exasperation. "Black is guilty, he's a guilty man! He doesn't need a trial, he's a murderer!"  
  
"But how do you know that?" Hermione broke in, catching onto Fred and George's annoyance. "You don't know that, not for sure-"  
  
"I do know that for sure!"  
  
"How?" Hermione and Colette both burst out together.  
  
"People saw him! People saw him blow up the street!"  
  
"No," Mrs. Weasley said flatly, stepping forward. She took a deep breath, suddenly a little nervous, and then continued. "No, they didn't. They saw a street being blown up, never-in any of the witness accounts-did people say that they saw Sirius himself doing it. He's not guilty. Peter Pettigrew is."  
  
Not for the first time during the present meeting, Fudge found that his vocal cords had refused to work and he was having trouble speaking. After a moment of incoherent sputtering, he turned on his heel, trying to leave the corridor while at the same time finding his voice.  
  
"I-I-all of you, the whole lot of you-you've all gone bloody mad! Poor Peter is dead, killed by Black...you're all mad...bloody mad..." Muttering to himself in shock, he tried to leave the hallway, but Remus was in front of him in a split second, standing his ground and staring him down with set determination.  
  
"Don't you tell me that Pettigrew is dead," Remus snarled, a growl in his throat. Ginny, startled, instinctively took a step back. Hermione placed a hand on her arm, although she could see why her friend was reacting that way. If she hadn't known Remus very well and hadn't known for a long time that he was not dangerous, she probably would have reacted in the same fashion...because for a moment, Remus had looked truly terrifying...and he had sounded very much like a wolf.  
  
"And don't you tell me that Sirius killed him!" Remus continued, the growl still in his voice, and his eyes flashing with anger. "Pettigrew was James and Lily's Secret Keeper, not Sirius! He was working for You-Know- Who, and he betrayed them! And he killed all those Muggles on the street, too! Sirius had tracked him down, Sirius was the only one who really knew what he was up to..." Remus paused for a second and gulped, overcome with emotion. "So Peter framed him, he made it look like Sirius had blown up the street, when it was really him who did it...and then he turned into Ron's pet..."  
  
Fudge wasn't quite sure exactly what Remus was talking about, and frankly he didn't care, for in his mind the whole group of people standing in front of him had gone berserk...especially the man in front of him. He, certainly, was deranged-but then Fudge remembered who this was...of course, he was the werewolf! That explained it. Stepping backwards-half in fear, half in disgust--all Fudge knew was that he had had enough.  
  
"Mad," He muttered, shaking his head slightly. "Bloody...bloody mad..."  
  
"Mad we may be, Cornelius," Colette said agreed smoothly. "In fact, we all probably *are* mad-I really wouldn't be surprised. But that means that some very important people are mad as well." She reached into the pocket of her robes and produced a folded piece of parchment. Carefully unfolding it, she held it out to Fudge, who cautiously took it from her. He glanced down at the heading of the parchment-saw that it was from the International Confederation of Wizards-and looked back up at Colette, alarmed, his eyes questioning.  
  
"This," Colette said slowly, answering his unspoken question. "Is an order given to me by the International Confederation of Wizards, as you already know. The Confederation wasn't very happy with you, Cornelius. Not very happy at all."  
  
Fudge stared at her, not comprehending what was going on, fear and dread piling up inside of him as he felt a knot beginning to form in his throat.  
  
"You aren't giving people trials, Cornelius," Colette continued, glaring at the Minister of Magic straight in the eye. "You've let at least one man be sentenced to Azkaban without a trial, and that man happens to be innocent of the crimes of which he supposedly committed. You've defied one of the most basic laws that the Confederation came up with-a man is innocent until proven guilty. That law is one of the main laws that has helped keep the magical society on its feet for hundreds of years. Also..."  
  
She took a deep breath, carefully choosing her next words. "You have refused to even consider the fact that the most powerful Dark wizard of all time has returned. If you were an intelligent man, you'd at least look into the facts, but you will have none of it. If things continue going the way they are now, the Dark Lord will return in full measure. More people will die, because he will return more powerful than he ever was, holding more of the awful power that he held fourteen years ago."  
  
She nodded towards the piece of parchment that he was holding in his hand, and Fudge looked down upon it again, frankly beginning to feel slightly terrified.  
  
"What you have in your hands is an order from the International Confederation of Wizards, an order that greatly concerns you." She took a deep breath, letting this information sink it. "Cornelius Fudge, you're fired."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
When Harry woke up, he was feeling extremely confused.  
  
Slowly, struggling past his pounding headache, he opened his eyes and stared, startled, at the stark white ceiling above him. He froze for a second, and then closed his eyes quickly, his mind whirling.  
  
Where *was* he?  
  
Squashing down the fear that threatened to override him, he carefully opened his eyes again and stared, with growing terror, at the ceiling that was blurry above him. He distantly registered that he was lying in a bed, and couldn't help but wondering why his surroundings had a familiar feel, but he couldn't figure out why. Maybe if he could get a clearer view he would know...if only he had his glasses!  
  
Harry tried to sit up, but stopped as soon as he felt a sharp pain shooting through his back. Sucking in air through clenched teeth, he quickly lay back down onto the bed and resigned to sliding his eyes toward the right, the feeling that he had seen this place before nagging in the back of his mind.  
  
Through a blurry haze (He wanted his glasses!), Harry saw that he was in a hospital room of some sort...his head was pounding again, he was beginning to feel dizzy, and frankly was getting scared because he didn't know where he was, and couldn't quite remember what had happened before he had lost consciousness...  
  
He looked over at the space to the right of him, trying to focus his eyes and failing miserably. He tried moving his head to the side, but was confronted with pain and stopped almost immediately, but not before he had caught a small glimpse of his surroundings.  
  
Suddenly, he realized why this all seemed so familiar.  
  
Sirius. He was in Sirius's room at St. Mungo's! What the...  
  
Letting out a little squeak of surprise and doing his best to ignore the pain in various parts of his body, Harry turned onto his side and stared- his emotions ranging between confusion, joy, and downright shock-at Sirius sleeping peacefully on the bed beside him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry's back was aching.  
  
He didn't dare move, however, hardly dared to breathe as his heart boomed like a cannon in his ears. He didn't know how long he had lay there in that position, simply staring at his godfather. At least ten or fifteen minutes, he judged, but he didn't take his eyes off Sirius long enough to search for a clock-and besides, even if he had found a clock he wouldn't have been able to read the time without his glasses.  
  
After those long minutes passed by, he gathered up the nerve to try and wake Sirius.  
  
"Padfoot...?"  
  
Sirius made no move to show that he had heard his godson. He continued to sleep peacefully, chest rising and falling with each breath that he took.  
  
Harry decided to try again. He knew that he ought to let Sirius sleep, but the need to talk to someone and to find out what was going on pushed him to open his mouth once more.  
  
"Padfoot?" He whispered again, and again no response. "Sirius..."  
  
The man on the bed beside him stirred slightly, and Harry froze, watching his godfather's pale face turn over to face Harry's bed, eyes opening slowly.  
  
Sirius gave a small gasp as soon as he saw Harry, and Harry didn't even blink as he looked steadily back at him.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius whispered in shock, his eyes very wide. "*Harry*? What are you...what in the blazes..."  
  
Harry just shook his head mutely, once more ignoring his headache. "I don't know," He whispered. "Don't ask me what I'm doing here or how I got here, cause I can't give you an answer."  
  
They stared at each other, and Harry stared into Sirius's eyes. It didn't matter that he didn't have his glasses on and couldn't see very well, he still found himself imagining another version of those eyes-eyes that were youthful and bright, not plagued with the horrors that they had seen.  
  
The eyes that he had seen in 1981.  
  
And then it all came back to him in a rush: falling asleep at the Weasleys, and his dream, then waking up in that barn...and being in Godric's Hollow...and seeing his parents...and then Sirius...and then Voldemort...  
  
And then the Riddle House. And Voldemort, and Pettigrew, and...  
  
For the first time Harry began to realize the implications of everything that had happened to him in the past...what? How long had it been since he had woken up in the barn? He suddenly realized with a start that everything fit together chronologically-he had spent the evening and a good part of the night in 1981, when he got back to 1995 it was still night, but then he had been unconscious and woken up around dawn. It all fit together.  
  
"Your glasses," Sirius whispered, drawing Harry out of his thoughts as he nodded toward a small table next to Harry's bed, on which Harry dimly saw his glasses lying. Not speaking, he carefully reached out his arm- gritting his teeth to keep from crying out as his muscles screamed in protest. He had obviously been more hurt than he had originally thought... Grasping his glasses, Harry dropped them onto his face and the world quickly came into focus.  
  
Yes, he recognized it more clearly now. Sirius's hospital room. He wondered for a moment where his bed had come from-he didn't remember there being an empty bed in Sirius's room before-but then again, nothing had been making much sense lately anyway, so he didn't dwell on it too long.  
  
Harry turned again to look at Sirius, and as soon as he did, there came a knock at the door. They both froze, first staring at the door and then at each other. After a moment, Sirius cleared his throat softly and then opened his mouth.  
  
"Come-come in..." He called out, his voice cracking slightly. The doorknob turned, the door was opened, and Harry found that he wasn't very surprised to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorframe.  
  
"Hello Harry, Sirius," He said pleasantly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Um, okay..." Harry said slowly, watching the older man carefully. It wasn't exactly a lie-he wasn't feeling awful, but he wasn't feeling at his best either.  
  
Dumbledore nodded, smiling, and pulled out a chair from the corner of the room to sit in the space between the feet of each of their beds. He didn't say anything, just sat and smiled. Harry and Sirius stared at him, waiting for him to say something...  
  
...which he never did. Apparently, he was perfectly happy to just sit and smile at his student and former student. Finally, Sirius sighed.  
  
"Do you have something you want to tell us, Albus?" He asked, a small note of exasperation in his voice. Harry, however, was beginning to understand the way his headmaster's mind worked.  
  
"Yeah, he does," Harry said, answering for Dumbledore. "But he's waiting for us to ask the questions."  
  
Dumbledore turned to him, smiling wider now. "Correct, Harry. Now, what is your question?"  
  
"What happened?" Harry said bluntly, not missing a beat.  
  
"Yeah, I'd like to know that, too..." Sirius said slowly, giving his godson a curious glance.  
  
"You mean what happened to you after you passed out at the Riddle House, or before?" Dumbledore asked reasonably, peering at Harry over his glasses.  
  
Sirius gave a start at hearing the words, "the Riddle House," but to his credit he kept his mouth shut to let Harry answer, although his mind was racing.  
  
"Uh, both..." Harry said tentatively. Silence. Finally, Harry could contain it no longer.  
  
"Professor, do you know where I *was*?" Harry burst out, so savagely that he surprised himself. "I was in 1981! In Godric's Hollow! With my parents and...and..."  
  
Sirius physically jumped in his bed, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly while choked sounds escaped from his throat. "What...what..."  
  
"Hush, Sirius," Dumbledore said quietly. "I'll explain it all in a minute." He turned to Harry, who was watching his professor carefully, his emotions in turmoil. "Yes, that's where the Time Turner was directed. Godric's Hollow, on Halloween, 1981."  
  
"Time Turner?" Sirius asked, staring. Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "As I said a moment ago, I will explain everything to you shortly. But before I do-Harry, why don't you tell us what you've been doing recently, starting from when you got into bed last night."  
  
So Harry took a deep breath and began, launching into falling asleep at the Burrow, and his dream, and then waking up in the barn down the street from Godric's Hollow. He then recounted in detail everything that had happened to him in 1981, and then coming back to 1995-right up until the moment that Dumbledore had found him in the Riddle House. The only interruption was when Harry was telling about spying on his parents and Sirius outside their home, and what they had said. At that point, Sirius could no longer keep quiet, giving a small gasp.  
  
"I...I..." He muttered, staring at Harry. "I remember that...you were *there*? I remember that..." Harry shifted uncomfortably, a bit unnerved by the look in his godfather's eyes. After that, he wasn't interrupted again as he recounted his story.  
  
It took a long time. When he was done, he swallowed hard-his throat was a little sore from all that talking, and he also couldn't remember the last time he had had a drink. He wanted water, but held his tongue. He wanted to hear what Dumbledore had to say about all this, if he had any explanations.  
  
Dumbledore sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his index fingers into the corners of his eyes. After a moment of silence, Harry spoke up.  
  
"Professor?" He asked quietly. "Do you think you can answer my questions?"  
  
"I'll do my best, Harry. What are they?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, grateful that Sirius was being silent throughout this whole exchange-he needed to think, he had a lot of questions.  
  
"Okay, um...how did Voldemort get access to Time Turners? The one that he had, and the one that I sort of took from Pettigrew?"  
  
"That, Harry, I don't know the answer to," Dumbledore sighed, frowning slightly. "My best guess is that he has some connection of sorts in the Ministry, and they were able to somehow obtain two Time Turners for him. That will have to be investigated."  
  
"Okay...what was all that about my dream? And how did *I* get the Time Turner from Pettigrew, and bring it back...?"  
  
"Harry, you and Peter Pettigrew have developed some sort of bond, of implications that I don't know of yet," Dumbledore said in a soft voice that left Harry frowning slightly. "Somehow, inexplicably, you, through your dreams, entered where Pettigrew was, and physically *took* the Time Turner from him and brought it back to your physical body...quite unheard of..." He shook his head. "I don't know Harry. Your guess is as good as mine."  
  
Harry bit his lip, remembering something. At the end of his third year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had told Harry that one day he might be very glad that he had saved Pettigrew's life that day in the Shrieking Shack. Was this the day? But no...Pettigrew hadn't done anything for him...he was feeling more confused than ever, but didn't voice his thoughts. Instead, he asked another question that had been on his mind.  
  
"After Voldemort started yelling in the forest, the paralyzing spell that he had put on me stopped working and I was able to kick him. How...?"  
  
"This, I believe, has nothing to do with bonds," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "If things happened the way you say they happened, then Voldemort was feeling very angry and frustrated, and his emotions were overwhelming him...a rare instance, indeed. His feelings overpowered him, and he lost control over the spell without realizing it."  
  
Harry fought to understand. His head had started pounding again, and he was finding it harder to concentrate-but he really wanted answers, and he wanted them now. *Forget about your stupid head,* Harry told himself firmly. *Just ask questions...and listen to the answers...*  
  
Forcing himself to focus, Harry asked yet another question. "Voldemort...he used powerful wandless magic in the Riddle House. Professor," He frowned. "I thought wandless magic couldn't be used for something huge like what he did..."  
  
"It can't, at least to my knowledge," Dumbledore answered, glancing at Sirius and then watching Harry carefully. "Harry, whether we're happy with the fact or not, Voldemort is an extremely powerful man. Once again, I'm not sure how he did this, and it is..." He glanced at Sirius again. "...something to be concerned about."  
  
Harry's head was swimming. He felt more dizzy than ever, and just wanted to sleep. But he had so many questions...and then there was this important one...  
  
"Pettigrew," Harry muttered, fighting to stay awake as he felt drowsiness beginning to take him over.  
  
"We're trying to get a confession out of him..." Dumbledore's voice trailed off in his mind, and Harry dropped off into sleep, pain and exhaustion once again taking its toll.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
By now, an hour after her confrontation with Fudge, Colette wasn't particularly excited or happy. She wasn't triumphant, she wasn't looking forward to what she had to do next, and despite the change that has occurred in recent events, she certainly wasn't jumping for joy.  
  
Quite simply, she was tired.  
  
So tired. She had known when she had accepted Dumbledore's request to get mixed up in all of this that sleep would become a precious rarity, and that her grainy eyes would plague her unmercilessly. Nevertheless, she found herself longing for her bed, and felt quite certain that if she lay down right there-in the corridor of St. Mungo's-she would fall asleep.  
  
But she had to go see Black and Potter, simply had to. She had to explain to them what was going on, what had happened...the two of them had been through so much, she at least owed them that much, to keep them updated to what was going on. Besides, she may be tired, but if a boy who wasn't even quite fifteen yet could have a concussion, back injuries, and a pretty banged up left arm and still stand up to Lord Voldemort...well, she could certainly fulfill *her* duties.  
  
Dumbledore had come to her not too long ago, telling her to go visit Black and Potter and fill them in, after he had left them himself earlier. He had been answering the questions that had arisen after Harry's adventures to the best of his ability, but when the boy had fallen asleep he had decided to go and tell the Weasleys and Hermione-who were extremely worried-exactly what was going on.  
  
Colette had been there as Dumbledore told them all where Harry had been, listening to the story he recounted, disbelief slowly turning to shocked understanding. This was insane. There was no other word for it. Insane...  
  
Continuing down the halls of St. Mungo's, she thought about how her life had been turned positively upside down in the span of a few days. First she had found out that the Dark Lord had indeed returned and that her old friend Sirius Black was innocent...and then that Fudge was not listening to *anyone*...and now all this business about the Dark Lord's plans and time travel...and now...and now...  
  
Colette shook her head violently. She almost didn't want to think about who she was now, it was frightening her a bit...  
  
A few minutes later, she stood in front of room 521 and paused, wondering if Potter was still asleep or whether Black would throw her out of the room now that Harry was there...she had heard that he had gotten very protective of his godson.  
  
"Oh, well, here goes nothing," Colette muttered. She lifted a hand to knock at the door, but as soon as her knuckles came into contact with the door, it opened of it's own accord. She froze before remembering that time- it seemed so long ago-that Fudge had come bursting into the room and had broken the door. She sighed. So much had happened...  
  
"Sirius?" Colette called out softly, carefully poking her head into the room. "Er, Sirius, are you-"  
  
"Hello, Colette," Came the sound of her old friend's smooth voice. Slowly opening the door, Colette slipped inside the room. As soon as she was inside, she closed the door behind her and glanced around to see an awake Harry Potter sitting upright in his bed-obviously a new addition to the room--and watching her carefully. She gave a small smile, suddenly a little nervous, which was extremely unlike her. She was hardly ever nervous in these situations, and if she was, she was very good at not showing it.  
  
She gave the teenager a quick nod before glancing at the other bed and her old friend who was lying in it. Spotting a chair in the corner of the room, she went over to it and pulled it out into the middle where she could sit and see both of the patients at the same time. Suddenly feeling a little awkward-another quality that was very much unlike her, she was usually extremely self-confident-she sat down in the chair and crossed her right leg over her left leg. A nervous habit that she had broken when she was a little girl.  
  
She looked at the two of them, almost expecting one of them to speak first before she remembered that she was the one who had walked into *their* room. She mentally slapped herself on the head. Duh.  
  
"We...uh. Need to talk," Colette said, shifting slightly as she decided to go straight to the point. "There are several things that you two should know that concern...many things."  
  
Sirius quirked an eyebrow at her. "Such as...?"  
  
"What has happened in recent events..." Colette restrained the urge to sigh and instead gave herself a little shake of the head. She normally didn't feel so uncomfortable...what was *wrong* with her? Why was she acting like this? If she was to be truthful with herself, it was frightening her a bit, but with everything that had happened to her recently, maybe her feelings were to be expected.  
  
She took a deep breath and forcefully slowed her quickening heartbeat. She wasn't making any sense...this was not like her at all...  
  
"Several things have happened," Colette began slowly, taking the time to carefully choose her words. "That the two of you should know about...involving such things as your trial, Sirius," She nodded toward the older man. "And Cornelius Fudge."  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, Colette could see Harry shifting and his eyes darkening. He obviously hated Fudge, and Colette honestly couldn't blame him. Hell, she hated him, too.  
  
Focusing herself on the task at hand, Colette decided that she just might as well tell them straight out what was going on, no beating around the bush. "Sirius, it's like I told you yesterday, before things got even more complicated...you are going to get a trial. A specific date has not been set yet, but it will be sometime in the very near future, so as to get this whole mess cleaned up as soon as possible."  
  
There was silence for a moment as both Harry and Sirius gaped dumbly at her, not speaking, while Colette returned to them a calm, steady stare. She was beginning to feel more like herself again. Finally, Sirius made a sort of choking sound.  
  
"What...*how*...?"  
  
"Remember what Dumbledore was planning on doing, what he said before? How he was going to alter things so you could easily get a trial? Do you remember exactly what he was going to alter?" She asked, watching them carefully as confusion flooded their faces. Yes, they remembered, of course, but they didn't understand.  
  
"Yeah, but-"  
  
"To make a long story short," She interrupted Potter smoothly, holding up a hand, signaling him to wait. "Cornelius Fudge is no longer the Minister of Magic." She took yet another deep breath. "I am."  
  
Colette carefully controlled her facial features like her mother had taught her so as not to wear her emotions on her sleeve, while at the same time watching Sirius and Harry to see their reactions. She noted with somewhat distant amusement that this unexpected news had rendered the two basically speechless. She didn't know the Potter boy all that well, but making Sirius Black go speechless was a rarity, indeed.  
  
But apparently, Potter was a little better at dealing with surprise than his godfather.  
  
"Of course!" He breathed. "That's what Dumbledore was planning to do...it actually *worked*? Wait a second..." He looked up at Colette, who could almost see the gears turning inside his head. "But when did this happen? I mean...how..."  
  
Sirius was completely dumbfounded, staring from Colette to Harry, then back to Colette, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Colette stifled the urge to laugh at the sight of the expression on her old friend's face. Shifting slightly in her seat and regaining her composure, she focused on her current job-filling them in.  
  
"Once again, to make a very long story short, your friend Hermione," She nodded towards Harry. "And I found out that Fudge wasn't going 'by the book', so to speak-he performing some extremely illegal actions..." Her voice trailed off. "If you want, you can get the details about exactly what he was doing later, it's pretty complicated to go into-but the point is, he didn't get away with it. The International Confederation of Wizards didn't like what he was doing and got him fired...so I'm, at least for the time being, taking over his job."  
  
"He got fired by the International Confederation of Wizards? How did you get for that to work?" Harry asked, frowning slightly. Sirius just sat, listening quietly. "He must have done something really bad, something really illegal, for him to get fired for doing it, and on such short notice..." He looked at Colette, as if prompting her to go on. "Well? What happened?"  
  
"It's complicated," Colette said shortly, as if that explained everything. "Do you really want me to go into *everything* now?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Give me the Cliff Notes."  
  
Now both Sirius and Colette were staring at him, uncomprehending. "The *what*?" They both asked in unison, looking at him as if he had just sprouted another head.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Just shorten it, okay? I have time."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius added, apparently finding his voice and turning to look back at Colette. "It's not like either of us are going anywhere immediately."  
  
Colette glared at them for a moment before sighing. "Fine, you win," She gave in. "Basically, to yet again make a long story short, Fudge and another minister weren't abiding by 'innocent until proven guilty.'"  
  
"Another minister?" Harry asked, frowning. "Who-"  
  
"Russell Neider," Colette answered before he had finished phrasing the question. She directed the answer to Potter, as Sirius would already know this. "He was the minister before Fudge, and he was a friend of Fudge's father. Supposedly, it was he who inspired Fudge to get into politics, and he taught Fudge about many of the things he had done as minister while Fudge was running for office. If you look at many of the choices taken by each of them, you can see that there are some parallels. Such as not giving people trials." She shook her head disgustedly.  
  
"So is this Russell guy going to get prosecuted, too-"  
  
Colette shook her head again, saying flatly, "Russell Neider is dead. He died a few years ago, he was very old...otherwise he would be getting the same treatment as Fudge. He wasn't giving trials to several people accused of being Death Eaters before You-Know-Who's downfall," She glanced at Sirius. "Simply because he thought that there was enough evidence saying that they were guilty. And now Fudge followed in his footsteps."  
  
There was a short silence as this information sunk in. Then Sirius spoke up, having obviously found his voice, although it was more to himself than anyone else. "That means that all those other people could be innocent, too..."  
  
"Pardon?" Colette looked at Sirius intently, waiting for him to explain.  
  
"Nothing, it's just..." Sirius began, then seemingly changed his mind about something and sighed. "Nothing, it's nothing."  
  
"Yes, it is something," Colette insisted. She hated when people talked to themselves aloud about things they didn't want other people to hear. Why would they say it aloud, then?  
  
"It's just...I was accused of being a Death Eater and sent to Azkaban without a trial, right? That could have happened to other people. Other people aren't Death Eaters and were sent to Azkaban without trials."  
  
Colette cocked her head at him thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Yes, you know, that's probably true. I'm definitely going to look into that." She glanced at her watch. "Well, I should be going...now that I'm the minister, I have a lot of stuff to take care of..."  
  
She got up, smoothed her robes, and began to walk towards the door. She had just placed her hand on the doorknob when Harry's voice stopped her.  
  
"You know what this means, right? You could team up with Dumbledore now, like Dumbledore wanted to do with Fudge...about defeating Voldemort."  
  
"Yes, definitely," Colette nodded. That boy was very perceptive...he thought a lot. "That's what I'm going to busy myself with immediately after this whole trial business is cleared up. I'm going to do something, especially after what almost happened to my cousin last month..."  
  
"Your cousin?" Harry asked, confusion and curiosity evident in his voice.  
  
Colette turned around, giving him a curious smile. "Yes, my cousin. She could have been seriously hurt in the third task back at Hogwarts in June." She shook her head. "I still can't believe how ignorant Fudge is..."  
  
She was moving to leave again, but not before she noticed the look on Harry's face. She frowned. "Potter? Are you alright?"  
  
"Y-your cousin?" He asked, his voice sounding oddly choked and his eyes looked as if they might pop out of their sockets. "Your cousin was in the third task?"  
  
"Of course she was..." Colette said slowly, watching the boy warily. "Are you sure you're alright? Should I maybe call a nurse...?"  
  
Sirius held up his hand, looking at his godson curiously, then staring at her. "I don't think it's a medical problem, Colette..."  
  
Harry leaned back in his pillow, the color having drained from his face. Colette was truly concerned now. Maybe-  
  
"Y-your cousin?" Harry muttered, interrupting her thoughts. "Your cousin is- "  
  
"Fleur," Colette said, frowning at him. "Yes, Fleur Delacour...she's my first cousin, of course...our mothers are sisters...what, you didn't know that?" Understanding dawned on her. "Is that all?" She laughed suddenly. Oh, the boy was fine. "I thought everyone knew that, that it's common knowledge...you had me scared there for a second, Potter!"  
  
Still laughing, Colette left the room.  
  
Sirius was looking at Harry with an amused smile on his face. "Harry? You okay there, kid?"  
  
"Fleur..." Harry said weakly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fleur's her *cousin*...why didn't I see it before?" He laughed a little, first at his own ignorance, and then at how much sense it made. "They look alike! They've got the same long blonde hair and blue eyes...and veela! They've both got veela in their blood, that's why I was...and Ron!" He laughed again. "Of course! Ron had a crush on Fleur, and now on her cousin...he was taken by both of them...and 'Colette Villons'-that's a French name! Fleur is French!"  
  
Harry was laughing in earnest now. It really wasn't all that much of a knee- slapping inducing situation or anything, but in light of recent events and how happy he was at the moment, (and not to mention how funny this coincidence was) it-to Harry-seemed downright hilarious.  
  
After he had calmed down a bit, he noticed that Sirius was watching him with the amused look still on his face. Harry took a deep breath, giggled a little more, and then turned to Sirius with an expression of carefully controlled (and fake) calm on his face as Sirius spoke.  
  
"I'm overjoyed that you find this all highly amusing, Harry, but I think it'll cheer you up even more when you fully understand what Colette-yes, that's right, Fleur's cousin..." He waited patiently for another moment as Harry laughed again, then continued. "When you fully understand what Colette said." He looked at his godson dead in the eye. "I'm going to have a *trial*, Harry. A trial that will prove my innocence. Once I'm proven innocent, that will mean that I am free. Free to..." He paused, his heartbeat suddenly quickening. "...adopt you..."  
  
Harry stared. *Adopt* him...Sirius could *adopt* him...  
  
"And now that Pettigrew is captured," Sirius continued, biting his lip. "He won't be getting in the way...so what do you say, Harry? Want a new home? With me?"  
  
A knot was steadily forming in Harry's throat. Finally...after all these years of wanting a family, he would finally be getting one... He took a moment to find his voice before speaking. "Sirius." He took a deep breath. "What do *you* think I want?"  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow slightly before noticing the teasing glint in Harry's eyes. He decided to play along. "I think...that you want a home? I think that your answer is yes?"  
  
"And I think you're correct," Harry said condescendingly, a small grin on his face.  
  
The teasing glints and grins faded, and the two of them locked eyes for a moment as invisible waves of understanding passed between them. *Everything's going to be alright now,* Harry thought, relief flooding through him. *Everything's going to be okay...*  
  
The moment passed, and Sirius broke eye contact first, settling down onto his pillows as Harry did the same. Then Sirius spoke again, very softly.  
  
"Everything will be great now, Harry...you don't need to live at the Dursleys, you'll have a home..."  
  
"It will be better than great, Sirius," Harry added quietly. "It will be amazing..."  
  
They lay together in silence for a few more moments before Sirius spoke up again.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're going to live with me. This will be incredible."  
  
Harry smiled and turned onto his side.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're going to be happier than you've ever been."  
  
"I don't doubt it all."  
  
Silence. Then-  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You have a family."  
  
Harry glanced at Sirius over his shoulder, feeling happier than he had in a long, long time. "Yeah...yeah, I really do."  
  
More silence.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Colette is Fleur's cousin!"  
  
Harry burst into laughter once more, and at that single moment, he felt as if the missing hole in his heart was finally filled.  
A/N: Well???? This chapter certainly ties a lot of loose ends together, huh? No more Fudge! Colette is minister! (Not to mention Fleur's cousin...) I'm actually surprised that none of you guys picked that up. I figured that I dropped enough clues to make it seem not so far-fetched--what Colette looks like (you know, the whole blonde-hair-blue-eyes-ice-queen beauty), that's she's French, she makes male heads turn, Ron's infatuated by her...and even her manner: calm, cool, and collected. Hehehe, that's even a little like Fleur!  
  
The title refers to the fact that all that Fudge has done to people during his time as minister is now rebounding back to him. Cause and effect! Karma! It serves him right, eh? I think it also means a sort of circle is now completed, for Harry-he had a family and a home, then he didn't; now he does again. Speaking of Harry, if he seems a little out of character in part of this chapter, that'll be explained later.  
  
Well, we're in the home stretch, guys! Only a few more chapters left, methinks! This was the longest chapter, by the way-just short of twenty pages! Yikes! Well, it's a nice long chapter after all that waiting on your part-you guys rock, I'm so glad you didn't boycott me or anything. *wink*  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Lol you said something like, "Is Harry going to save Cedric?" You did! Lol whatever... Last July? You better update, then!  
  
padfoot1979: Yay, I love getting new reviewers! I'm glad that you like my characterizations, when I started writing the story I was afraid I wasn't doing them very well. Wormtail's captured! WOO HOO!  
  
Snape? Hmm...I hadn't planned on him being in the story, but I guess he could make some sort of cameo appearance, so to speak. Lol, maybe I can put him in somewhere.  
  
celestial princess: Yeah, I had tons of fun with the trick wands thing! That was great. "better watch it, now the pressure is on!"  
  
Anaxandra: That's a pretty name...combination of Anna and Alexandra, pretty...lol nevermind. Wow, thanks for all the compliments! Yay! Harry and Sirius (non slash, that just scares me) stories rock! Let's just say this story did involve a lot of planning things out...and thinking...and more thinking. Actually, a heck of a lot of thinking, when it comes down to it. I've had a lot of fun with Colette-you know, when the beginning of this story was written, and when I first started planning it out, Colette didn't even exist? But I think it's kind of refreshing to have an original character in a world where characters you didn't create are dominant. Sort of gives you room to play around. Yeah, Harry and Ginny *are* cute! Hehehe...  
  
Hi Asia! I love cats! I have two; sometimes they try and attack my fingers when I'm typing, too. And sometimes lie on the keyboard. Cats rock, too!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Yeah, it is hard to find what you're looking for...especially in a huge section like Harry Potter, where like over twenty stories are updated every day and you need to go through pages and pages...blech. Yep, everything's coming together-and there be part of a chapter with something of that sort! It will be necessary to have...hehe well you'll see. Merci!  
  
Crazy-Chan: Oh, thank you! Yeah, Sirius will be free! And Fudge isn't minister! Yay! You are in a hurry, aren't you? Well, I'm glad you like my story!  
  
Child-of-the-Dawn: Colette/Sirius? Hehe well we'll see. And uh you know I was just wondering-what the heck is the energizer bunny? If I need something critiqued, I'll go you, but right now I just wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible before I'm chased down my block my various readers with kitchen knives.  
  
Oh my gosh! If you read my profile, you'll see that I love Star Wars...and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon rock! Especially Obi-Wan. Lol, I read some of the Jedi Apprentice thingies when I was younger, and I vaguely remember who Tahl is. Just like I vaguely remember uh Bant? And Bruck? Am I right? I'll check it out when I'm not so swamped!  
  
Silver Angel: Really? You love it? Yay! So many people love it, I feel so happy...  
  
Angel of Hogwarts: Yep, Voldemort holding a teddy bear. How great is that? Well, here's what happened next!  
  
LilyGinnyBlack: Let me guess-you love this story? Lol, as you can see, I continued. I'll check out your stories once I'm not so swamped with work and can breathe a little!  
  
The Elfin Child: Yay! More story! Trust me, I'm dancing too, I'm so relieved to have finally gotten this chapter out!  
  
Tinuviel: Your hard drive crashed? Ugh that really sucks. I would like have a heart attack if my hard drive crashed! Lol, I am the Queen of Procrastination. I honestly don't know how I ever get anything done at all, with my study habits!  
  
Yeah, Harry fell asleep with a concussion, but he's not too badly hurt, see? I don't have the heart to torture poor Harry as much as another writer, neutral, has done. (If you like Sirius/Harry sort of bonding/adventure stories check her things out, she's an excellent writer, far better than I am I think!) Yay! Yay! Yay! Colette and Hermione are so smart! Girl power! And no more Pettigrew! Yay!  
  
When I was writing that bit when Harry woke up and was talking to Dumbledore, I was actually reminded of something from the books. Yay! I don't mind exclamation points and "yay's"! I do it all the time! Yay! I'm even doing it now, see! YAY!!!  
  
Your weird sometimes? Don't worry, we all are these days!  
  
amy: Wow thanks! I'm not going to write about the school year in *this* story, cause it just wouldn't make any sense, although maybe as part of an epilogue...I don't know, I didn't originally plan on it...but then again, I didn't originally plan on Harry traveling through time or Colette even existing, so you never know! eHHeadjdadfd 


	21. St Mungo's, Dreams, and Annoying Vows of...

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I claim to. Duh!  
  
A/N: This is a reeeeally short chapter, guys, especially in comparison to the last one...  
  
Chapter Twenty One-St. Mungo's, Dreams, and Annoying Vows of Silence  
  
A few days after Harry woke up in Sirius's hospital room in St. Mungo's, he was feeling well enough to get up and walk around the hopsital a little. His quick recovery was surprising the doctors, who had initially thought that his head injury was worse than it really was. The main reason that the doctors were keeping him in the hospital as long as they were was because he was under observation-he still wasn't all-clear yet.  
  
Sirius, on the other hand, had lost a lot of blood when he had been injured in Liverpool, so as a result-and to Harry's distress--he was still pretty weak.  
  
Hours after Dumbledore and Colette had left Harry and Sirius alone in their room that day; and after Harry had dozed off and eventually fallen into a deep sleep, something had occurred to him. He remembered something...something that seemed to have happened a long time ago, but in actuality had only happened about a week ago...  
  
Harry's dream. The dream that he had had back in Privet Drive, back at the Dursleys. The dream that had told him that Sirius was hurt in that Voldemort attack in Southampton. In light of everything that had happened since he had the dream, it seemed like he had had it so long ago...  
  
But now that he remembered it, he realized that he really, really needed to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Originally, he hadn't wanted to talk to Dumbledore about it, but now things had changed. He was having foreshadowing dreams about his godfather. How often did *that* happen?  
  
He wanted to talk to Dumbledore desperately. Also as desperately, he wanted to reveal his feelings to Ron and Hermione during the times that they visited him in the hospital, but whenever they were in there they were either accompanied by the other Weasley children, or Sirius was awake...and he didn't want to tell Sirius about his dream just yet. He had enough to worry about.  
  
By a stroke of luck, on one of the mornings that he was feeling fairly well, he heard two nurses talking amongst themselves that Dumbledore was "going to visit someone in the hospital today." So later that day, at around noon-when Sirius was asleep and the Weasleys and Hermione were eating lunch--Harry slipped out of bed to find Professor Dumbledore.  
  
As soon as he left the room and found himself in the hallway, Harry realized that he had no idea where Dumbledore would be. This was a huge hospital-Harry had quickly learned that during his walks around the building, and before when he had visited Sirius--and he could be anywhere out of roughly three hundred million places to be.  
  
Harry's heart sank, and he was about to go back into the room and had just resigned to let Dumbledore find him first when he heard a familiar voice.  
  
"Hello, Harry," Harry heard the voice say. "Were you going to go for a walk?"  
  
Harry didn't turn around, just sighed and shook his head (very slightly, because it sill hurt), smiling. The professor had always seemed to be able to guess Harry's thoughts and be at the right place at the right time.  
  
"Hi, Professor," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder, then turning around to face Dumbledore who stood at the other end of the hallway. "I was actually just going to come looking for you..." He stopped suddenly, staring at the professor. "Wait a second...what are *you* doing here?"  
  
"I was going to come and visit you and Sirius," Dumbledore said pleasantly, beginning to walk down the hallway in his long strides to reach Harry-who in the meantime, gave himself a mental slap on the head. The nurses had said that Dumbledore was going to come visit someone in the hospital...duh.  
  
"Well, actually, Professor," Harry said quickly, walking closer to Dumbledore and away from his room. "Sirius is asleep now...can we go to the waiting room or something? I...need to talk to you."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, smiling, and the two of them made their way through the hallway to one of the small waiting rooms on the other side, finding one which was thankfully empty. Harry lowered himself down onto one of the cushioned chairs, and Dumbledore sat across from him.  
  
Harry looked up at his professor, opening his mouth and preparing to speak, before he paused. Maybe...maybe he shouldn't bother Dumbledore with his dream, after all. He certainly had a lot of his own things to worry about and deal with, what with everything that was going on...but then he changed his mind again. Harry had already brought him out here, and it would seem odd if he didn't say anything of somewhat importance... *And besides,* He convinced himself. *He would probably want to know about the dream anyway.* So Harry began to speak.  
  
"Well, Professor, I had a dream..." He began slowly. Then he paused, trying to figure out how to word all of this without sounding like total idiot.  
  
"Is that very unusual for you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked conversationally during the pause, a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"Yes, well, I mean...no, wait. Yes, it's unusual...not having a dream, but the kind of dream it was was unusual. Having dreams are unusual...wait, no they aren't...but, but this dream was unusual..." Harry shook his head slightly, well aware of the fact that he was making absolutely no sense whatsoever. Trying to ignore the amused look on Dumbledore's face, he took a deep breath and then spoke again, this time very carefully.  
  
"Professor, back when I was with the Dursleys I had a dream about Sirius...when he was in Southampton, in that Voldemort attack. It was so strange...everything was in so much detail, and it was all in the first person, like I was in Sirius's mind or something..." He shook his head yet again. "And then the next day I found out about the Southampton attack, and that Sirius was hurt..."  
  
He stopped and looked up at Dumbledore, who's amused look had been replaced with curiousity.  
  
"Is that so, Harry?" He asked quietly, his eyes carefully studying the boy's face as Harry glanced down at the floor, suddenly a little embarrassed.  
  
"Yeah," He whispered. "It was so real...and then I found out that it had all been true..."  
  
"That's a very interesting story," Dumbledore murmured, leaning back into his seat. "And...am I correct in assuming that nothing like this has ever happened to you before?"  
  
"Yes," Harry confirmed, his voice sounding oddly small. All of a sudden, there was the wail of a baby crying somewhere not too far away in the building. Harry visibly jumped, startled, and, when Dumbledore looked at him in mild surprise, he mentally scolded himself. He had been on the edge a lot recently, ever since he had returned from 1981. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and slow his steadily quickening heartbeat.  
  
After a few minutes of silence which involved Dumbledore obviously thinking very hard and looking at Harry thoughtfully-while Harry shifted uncomfortably and jumped at the slightest sound-the professor spoke.  
  
"Harry, I'm not sure if we can clear up this little incident without consulting Sirius first, and even then I'm not entirely sure if it will all make sense, but all the same..."  
  
Harry sighed, very softly. He had been afraid of that. He didn't want to put more stress on his godfather then there already was...  
  
Dumbledore reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a very battered-but obviously very loved-watch. After studying it for a moment, Dumbledore stood up.  
  
"Well, I must be going, Harry. I have a meeting with Colette. Why don't you try and tell Sirius about this?" He added gently, lowering his glasses slightly to watch his student.  
  
"Cause right now Sirius is sleeping, and he's such a deep sleeper that World War Three could be going on at the foot of his bed and he wouldn't notice," Harry grinned, carefully avoiding the question. "Bye, Professor."  
  
"Goodbye," Dumbledore said, watching Harry's retreating back as he made his way back to the room he shared with Sirius. Once he was out of sight, Dumbledore sighed. The boy certainly has had a lot to think about in the past few years...  
  
Lost in various thoughts, Dumbledore went downstairs to the cafeteria at St. Mungo's, where Colette had said she would meet him for lunch. Meet Colette for lunch...had it only been about a week ago when they had done just that, before everything...  
  
Shaking his head very slightly at everything and yet at nothing, Dumbledore straightened his robes, and began to search for Colette.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Colette was in a particularly sour mood, and with good reason.  
  
It was Peter Pettigrew.  
  
Colette and a few others in the Ministry knew that he was guilty of those horrible crimes, but did the people working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement know that? *Noooooo,* of course they didn't! No, they wouldn't take anybody else's word or anybody else's evidence, noooo, they had to hear him *confess*, had to hear him confess with their own *ears*, ears that Colette was sure were plugged up with a dangerously large amount of earwax.  
  
But that was only partially why she was in a sour mood.  
  
The thing that had really gotten to her, that was really putting her in a sour mood and annoying the living hell out of her, was that Pettigrew wouldn't confess.  
  
Not only would he not confess, he wasn't *talking.* *At all.* It was like he was one of those damned monks who had taken those damned vows of silence in their damned monasteries.  
  
"Damn!" She muttered suddenly, pounding her fist upon the table she was sitting at in the cafeteria at St. Mungo's and startling a passerby. Quite frankly, Colette neither noticed nor cared, she was too caught up in her tumbled and outraged thoughts about the trial and Pettigrew and monasteries and earwax.  
  
So caught up, in fact, that she hardly noticed Albus Dumbledore until he had sat himself down across from her at the table.  
  
"Colette...?" Dumbledore questioned quietly, making Colette jump, and in turn making Dumbledore raise an eyebrow at her, amused.  
  
"Sorry, Albus," She muttered crisply. "I'm just not in a very good mood right now, and I wasn't paying attention."  
  
"You mean, in a worse mood than usual?" Dumbledore asked her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Colette glared at him, but at the same time couldn't help but smile inwardly. He was one of the few people in the world who would have dared to make that comment, Sirius Black being one of those other people...  
  
Now that she had thought of Sirius, her mind was wandering back to the trial...and Pettigrew...who wasn't talking...*damn!*  
  
"Albus, we have a problem," Colette said quickly, deciding that a change of subject was in order and, as usual, immediately jumped to the point. "It's Pettigrew. He's refusing to confess, or say anything at all, for that matter. The Ministry wants to hear him confess, Albus! Apparently, our word isn't enough," She added bitterly. "If we can't get him to say anything, then Sirius doesn't have a chance."  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her again, but this time the amusement was gone from his eyes. "They're that adamant about it? They won't do anything unless he confesses?"  
  
"Yes!" Colette scowled, frustrated. Not for the first time in the past few days she felt like banging her head on the table repeatedly, but she restrained herself and instead resigned to taking a sip of the coffee she had ordered earlier. She had been drinking an awful lot of coffee lately. "You would think that the simple fact that he had faked his own death would be enough evidence, but a lot of the people in Magical Law Enforcement seemed to be taking the same stand that Fudge most likely would have-they tell me that there's a possibility that Pettigrew was scared, and was in hiding from Sirius. That that's why he lived as a rat for twelve years."  
  
"Have they been informed yet that Pettigrew has re-connected with Voldemort?" Dumbledore inquired, watching her carefully.  
  
"Yes, they've been *informed,*" Colette muttered and waved a hand through the air, annoyed. "But do they believe it? Nope, not until he confesses. And if he won't confess...then we have a serious problem, Albus."  
  
"Yes, we do," Dumbledore murmured in agreement, but his mind had wandered back. Back to a few years before, when he and Harry had spoken the day after Sirius escaped from Hogwarts. How he had told Harry that, after Harry had saved Pettigrew's life that night, Pettigrew now owed him a life debt. At the time, Harry hadn't been exactly happy about the idea, but now it might come in handy...  
  
Still thinking very hard, Dumbledore turned to Colette. "Remember how I told you that Harry saved Pettigrew's life that night at Hogwarts, by not letting Sirius and Remus kill him?"  
  
"Yes..." Colette said slowly, prompting him impatiently on. She had calmed down a bit, but was still on the edge, and impatient to the very end.  
  
"Exactly. Harry saved Pettigrew's life, and now Pettigrew owes him a debt..."  
  
Colette raised her eyes from where she had been staring inside her coffee cup to meet his. "What are you saying, Dumbledore?"  
  
"That Harry could use this to his advantage. He could remind Pettigrew of the debt that he owes him, and make him confess."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, Colette frowning slightly. It sure seemed like a good plan on the outside, but something else was bugging her.  
  
"But, Albus...Pettigrew was the Potters' Secret Keeper. They trusted him, they thought that he was loyal, and he betrayed him." Colette paused for a moment, shaking her head in disgust, before continuing. "In a very real sense, he killed his friends. What makes you think that now he'll fulfill the debt he owes to Harry?"  
  
"Colette, I knew Peter," Dumbledore said grimly. "And I know that he's scared. He's scared of Voldemort, scared of dying, but most of all, I think he's scared of Harry." Dumbledore stood up, straightening his robes and preparing to leave. "If Peter has any shred of humanity left inside of him, he'll fulfill the debt." He turned and, without another word, walked away.  
  
Colette stared after his retreating back. Very rarely had she heard him use such hard words before, and it had unnerved her somewhat...but at the same time, she truly hoped that he was right about Pettigrew. For everyone's sake.  
  
As she considered all the implications of everything that was happening, she grimaced as she noticed that her pounding and now consistent headache that had disappeared a few days before was now returning.  
  
Damn.  
A/N: Yeah, I know that it was short, but now that we're past the point where I need to write a chapter that includes three million things happening simultaneously for it all to make sense... I figure it'll be easier (for me, anyway) if I get out the remaining chapters in a bunch of small blocks, rather than a couple of large ones, if I want to finish before the 5th book comes out.  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: Last July? My goodness! Haha...  
  
Silver Angel: I'm glad that you like my story so much! Trust me, I'm updating, I'm working to get them all out!  
  
Child-of-the-Dawn: Is it just me, am I going crazy, or did you give the same review twice? Lol I dunno I think I need more sleep...Star Wars ROCKS!  
  
The Elfin Child: Fudge named after chocolate...haha...don't worry, we're all a little loopy these days!  
  
celestial princess: Hehe, I had fun with Colette. Really, you picked up on that a bit? Haha, someone did! Trust me, I'll be sad when it's over, too!  
  
Group One with flamingo skirts! AWWW!  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Yeah, it was an extremely long chapter, wasn't it? Thanks, lol, knowing where to end a chapter just seems to come to me naturally, or something...hehe.  
  
I'd say about two chapters are left, but it could be more or less, not sure, and the epilogue-you read my mind, that's basically the epilogue I was planning. Ha!  
  
Yay! How long have you been reading this story for? Too lazy to go back and check the reviews...  
  
Jordan: Your wish has been granted! 


	22. Color My World

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the song "Color My World," nor do I claim to. I'm just a broke 15 year-old girl, so if you try to sue me all you'll get is my laptop, a biology textbook, and various pictures of Ewan McGregor.  
  
A/N: I was actually aiming to finish this story before the fifth book came out, but as it comes out tomorrow, I don't think that that's quite possible anymore. The delay was mainly due to the New York State Regents Exams That Are Officially From Hell. Whoever invented Regents should die a long, suffering death...but, cheers, everyone! The 5th book comes out tomorrow! But for now, let's go on with my little "book", shall we?  
  
kateydidnt: Don't worry, I thought of that, too!  
  
"As time goes on I realize  
Just what you mean to me  
And now, now that you're near  
Promise your love  
That I've wanted to share  
And dreams of our moments together  
Color my world with hope of loving you."  
  
--Chicago (The group, not the musical!)  
  
Chapter Twenty Two-Color My World  
  
That afternoon found Harry sitting upright and leaning against his pillows in his hospital bed, fidgeting with the fringes of his blankets and half listening as Sirius described to a St. Mungo's nurse how he was feeling today. The nurse had already talked to Harry and evaluated his condition, and as a result he was once again left to ponder his thoughts.  
  
He hardly noticed as the nurse left the room and Sirius turned to look at Harry curiously.  
  
"Harry?" Sirius questioned cautiously. "You alright there?"  
  
"Er...yeah," Harry said distractedly, staring down at his fingers which were twisting around his sheet. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
Sirius's gaze traveled down to Harry's fingers as well. He turned back to look the teenager in the face, his eyebrow raised. "You don't seem fine. What's going on?"  
  
Harry just sighed and shook his head slightly, looking back down at his hands. To be honest with himself, he didn't know what was wrong, either. He felt jumpy and nervous, not to mention sort of sick to his stomach, but for what reason he wasn't quite sure.  
  
Sirius was about to question Harry further when there came a knock at the door.  
  
"Come in," Sirius called out after a short hesitation, his eyes still resting on Harry for a moment before they moved to see who had entered the room.  
  
It was Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Harry stared at him for a second in surprise. He surely hadn't come to tell Sirius about...about what they had talked about, had he? Oh, no...  
  
But then Harry mentally shook his head. Dumbledore wouldn't do that, but then again, he was so unpredictable...  
  
He gulped and looked at the professor expectantly. Dumbledore, however, merely gave Harry a warm smile before pulling out the well-used chair from the corner of the room and sat on it, turning to Sirius.  
  
"We have...a problem," Dumbledore began gently, but just as he was about to continue, he was cut off when there was another knock at the door.  
  
Looking a little surprised this time; Sirius again called out an invitation for the new visitor to come in. The door opened to reveal Colette Villons, standing in the hallway and looking extremely uncomfortable.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrow slightly at her, then back at Dumbledore, still wondering what the problem he had mentioned was. What was going on?  
  
Colette looked at Dumbledore. "Have you told them yet?" She asked him sharply.  
  
"No," Dumbledore said calmly. "I was just about to-"  
  
"Tell us what?" Harry interrupted, unable to restrain himself.  
  
Colette glanced at Dumbledore, then sighed, moving into the room and sinking down heavily upon a spare chair. She looked very tired.  
  
There was a moment of silence, but then Harry couldn't take it any longer. "Tell us *what*?" He repeated, looking from Colette to Dumbledore, then back to Colette.  
  
"Yes, please," Sirius said, glancing at Harry as he spoke, then turned to Dumbledore, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Please tell us, cause I think we'd like to know. That would be very nice. Oh, and by the way, you two are doing an extremely effective job of building up tension in here and making me and Harry wonder wildly what the hell is going on. Just thought I'd let you know. Congratulations."  
  
Dumbledore either didn't get catch the sarcasm or chose to ignore it. Meanwhile, Colette glared at Sirius half-heartedly for a moment before speaking.  
  
"We have a problem," She said simply, looking very uncomfortable again.  
  
Harry stared at her. He momentarily felt like banging his head against the wall, but stopped himself before he did so, reminding himself that he would be most likely transferred to the mental ward of St. Mungo's. "We *know* that," He snapped impatiently, then paused and took a deep breath. He was under a lot of stress...and needed to calm down. He chose his next words carefully and spoke slowly. "What we *don't* know is what that problem *is.*"  
  
After glancing at Dumbledore again, Colette shifted so that she could face both Sirius and Harry at the same time. "Pettigrew is not talking. Just not talking. About anything. At all. And if he doesn't confess...well, there isn't strong enough physical evidence against him to convince the Ministry that he is guilty. So basically, if he doesn't confess..."  
  
Harry felt as if a bomb had dropped inside his stomach. A mixture of despair and nausea filled him, and he swayed slightly, dizzied by it all. His throat constricted, and, unable to speak, he let Sirius do the talking.  
  
"But...what..." Sirius's throat caught for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "What about Veritaserum?"  
  
"That would be the most obvious action to take, wouldn't it? Just simply give him Veritaserum?" Colette sighed. "Thing is, he's not only not talking, he's not doing anything. Literally. He just sits there all day. All he's had since he came into custody was water. The only way for him to have Veritaserum is if someone forced him into taking it after putting him under the illegal Imperius Curse...which wouldn't go over very well with the Ministry, I daresay."  
  
"He could be drugged into taking it," Sirius muttered irritably. "But then he might choke...and die...what a horrible, awful shame that would be..."  
  
Finding his voice, Harry asked, "But he's been in custody for nearly a week. How come you're only finding out about this now? And you're the minister..."  
  
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement doesn't seem to care an awful lot about this case-" Colette began heatedly, but Dumbledore raised a hand to cut her off.  
  
"The real point that we are trying to get to here, Harry, is that we need your help."  
  
Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow slightly at his professor in surprise. "*My* help?"  
  
"Yes. Your help," Dumbledore removed his glasses for a moment and rubbed at his eyes with a single finger, sighing. Harry shifted slightly, forgetting for a moment about what was going on presently. Extremely rarely had he ever seen Dumbledore act so tired and weary and...old. It was so uncharacteristic of him that it made Harry uncomfortable.  
  
After the short pause, Dumbledore leaned forward, meeting Harry's eyes with his own. Green locked with blue, and Harry leaned forward as well.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore began softly. "I know, of course, you remember that night at Hogwarts when you first learned of Sirius's innocence?"  
  
Harry nodded slowly. How could he forget?  
  
"You remember how you prevented Sirius and Remus Lupin from killing Pettigrew. You didn't want them to do it."  
  
Harry could distantly hear Sirius's breath catching somewhere inside his throat, but he paid him no mind. His mind was burning with the memory, how he had stopped Sirius and Professor Lupin from killing Pettigrew, saying that he thought his dad wouldn't have wanted them to become murderers. How he had saved Pettigrew's life, but in the end, that *rat* had gotten away...  
  
Dumbledore began to speak again, pulling Harry out of his reverie.  
  
"Do you remember what I had said to you the next day? About what you did for Pettigrew?"  
  
"You said...you said that Pettigrew was now in my life debt," Harry said slowly, his eyes widening as he recalled the conversation they had had in Professor Lupin's deserted office. "And that one day I would be very glad that I had saved his life..." Harry looked up, surprise etched in his features. "Professor, do you mean to say-"  
  
"What we need is for you to talk to Pettigrew," Colette said quickly, looking at him steadily. He met her gaze. "Remind him of how you saved his life last year. Remind him that he's in your debt. Remind him that...that if he is released from the Ministry, You-Know-Who won't be exactly overly pleased with him. He did fail with his mission, after all," She added, seeing the momentary confusion flicker over Harry's face. "He didn't even come close to completing it. You-Know-Who will not be happy.  
  
"In other words, get him to confess."  
  
Harry nodded; his gaze unfocused as he looked towards the foot of his bed, wondering why he hadn't thought of doing that himself. He looked up again, only to be surprised that Colette, Sirius, and Dumbledore were all watching him.  
  
"Will you do it?" Colette asked him quietly.  
  
Harry stared at her for a moment, briefly wondering why she even had to ask. "Of course I will!"  
  
"I will contact the Ministry about your decision," Colette said, still quiet.  
  
"Yes, perhaps the meeting could be conducted later," Dumbledore said, standing up and motioning for Colette to do the same. "The day's not over yet, but I believe that you two need your rest. You have a lot to think about," He gave Harry a quick-yet meaningful--glance before he left the room with Colette on his heels, and Harry knew that he was making a reference to the conversation that they had had earlier.  
  
But then he realized what had just happened, and he wanted to jump and yell for Colette and Dumbledore to come back, that he wanted to talk Pettigrew right now and not wait another minute. But before he did so, he realized that he himself was pretty drained, and slid down onto his pillows as Sirius did the same.  
  
"Well, that was...interesting," Sirius commented after a moment of silence. He gave Harry a sidelong glance. It was a quick look, but not quick enough for Harry to miss the concern that passed through Sirius's eyes.  
  
"Are you sure that you're alright, kiddo?" Sirius asked Harry, repressing the urge to frown slightly. "You've just seemed so different these past few days..."  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, giving Sirius a reassuring smile. "Just stressed, I guess."  
  
"Hmm-hm," Sirius mumbled, a note of skepticism in his voice. But then, the skepticism was gone as he flashed a grin at his godson. "I'm going to close my eyes for a bit, Harry. Good night."  
  
"Good night," Harry replied absently, and it barely registered within his mind that it was the middle of the afternoon.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Unlike Sirius, Harry couldn't fall asleep right away. In fact, despite the fatigue that was tugging at his body, he couldn't fall asleep at all.  
  
Yet how he wanted to sleep. To slip into a world where he didn't need to think about his dreams, or trials, or Pettigrew, or Voldemort, or to simply think at all.  
  
But then again, Harry knew better than to just run away from his problems, because when you did, they often came to bite you harder than they had before. What he needed, he decided finally, was something to lift his spirits.  
  
And pretty soon, his spirits were lifted.  
  
But not in a way that he expected.  
  
He was just watching Sirius sleep, for that moment not worrying about anything in particular, when there came a knock at the door.  
  
"Who is it?" He asked out of habit, looking at the door and fully expecting there to be Dumbledore or Colette on the other side.  
  
"It's...it's Ginny," Came a small voice.  
  
Harry's breath caught in his throat, and his heart stopped beating for a moment. His initial reaction was surprise (*Ginny?*), and his second reaction was for his face to turn bright red.  
  
He nearly groaned, covering his face with his hands for a moment and willing the blush to go away quickly. He couldn't just leave her standing out there...  
  
"Come in," Harry called out, surprised at the shaky quality of his voice. The door opened, and Harry slowly and reluctantly moved his hands away from his cheeks, praying to whatever gods might be listening that his blush had gone away.  
  
Ginny stepped into the room nervously and looked around shyly, leaving the door slightly ajar. She had only been in there a couple of times before, and those where when she had been with the rest of the Weasleys.  
  
Harry swallowed his surprise and gave her a small smile.  
  
"Hi," He began, but then paused; unsure of how he should continue.  
  
"Hi," Ginny responded, glancing at Harry quickly before looking away. Then suddenly, she caught sight of Sirius and stopped, taking half a step back.  
  
"Should I leave?" She asked nervously, looking over at Harry's godfather uneasily. "He's asleep...I should go..."  
  
"No, no, that's okay," Harry said, shaking his head and realizing that he didn't want her to go. "Sirius will sleep through anything, trust me. You don't have to worry about waking him up. I'm sure," He added quickly, seeing the look on her face. "He'll be fine. You can stay."  
  
Edging slightly away from Sirius, Ginny pulled up the empty chair so that it was near Harry's bed-though, he noticed, not as close as it could have been. She was uncomfortable with him.  
  
After she sat down, she averted her eyes again, suddenly finding something very interesting in the tiled hospital floor. "I just...wanted to see how you were."  
  
"Where's everybody else?" Harry asked curiously. It wasn't like Ginny to just come see him by herself; she was pretty timid by nature.  
  
"Um...well, actually, they had to go somewhere...and Mum wanted me to come and keep you company," Ginny said a bit uncomfortably, shifting her weight.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing. He had a feeling that she knew some stuff that she was not telling him, but he didn't feel like pressing her.  
  
"Oh, okay, then," He smiled at her. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping his blush at bay, but then he conveniently ignored the part of his mind which asked why he had even blushed in the first place. He had never felt very uncomfortable around Ginny before.  
  
They made small talk for a few minutes. Harry asked how Hedwig was, as she was staying at the Weasleys for the time being, and Ginny told him how "the Burrow was slowly turning into a zoo."  
  
"...with all of us kids, and all the owls, and now Crookshanks, and Bill and Charlie will be coming in soon to visit..."  
  
As Ginny talked and visibly became more comfortable, Harry's mind wandered off. Inevitably, he started thinking about the trial and Sirius and Pettigrew, but then he pushed those negative thoughts out of his head and decided to concentrate on what was directly in front of him. Ginny. Talking animatedly about this and that, wavy red falling in front of her eyes...blue eyes that were sparkling in the sunshine that fell out of the room's open window...  
  
Harry stopped himself before he could go farther. For pity's sake! He was acting almost as if she was Cho Chang!  
  
As that thought crossed his mind, he nearly slapped himself. What was *wrong* with him this afternoon?  
  
Ginny seemed to have realized that she had lost her audience, and paused in the middle of a sentence that had something to do with Charlie and his dragons to raise an eyebrow at him. "Harry? Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah..." Harry said, giving himself an ever-so-slight shake of the head. "Yeah, I'm fine...Ginny? How old are you?"  
  
The question fell out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and once again he felt like giving himself a good ole' smack on the head.  
  
Meanwhile, Ginny blinked in mild surprise at the sudden change of subject. "I'm, uh, fourteen, Harry. A year younger than you. Same as I've always been."  
  
"When you saw me...that day at the Burrow...the first time that I was there...why did you seem so scared?" Harry's mouth seemed to have acquired a mind of it's own. He didn't know why on Earth he was bringing these things up...  
  
But now it was Ginny's turn to blush. And she did so splendidly, her cheeks turning the color of ripe red apples. "Well...I...I...I had a crush on you," She blurted out, quickly turning her face away before looking back at him. "And I...I still do...but you know that! Isn't it obvious?"  
  
*Isn't it obvious?* Ginny's words rang in his ears as Harry blinked and sat back, not realizing that he had even leaned forward in the first place. His heart boomed like a cannon in his ears. And now that he thought about it, he did see how obvious it was...he'd always suspected that she liked him for years, but it was never more than that-speculation. But, now...it was just...so obvious...so...duh.  
  
Once he got past his surprise, he began to think, and then he began to realize...just how much she...the hammering of his heart seemed to be the most dominant sound in the world...  
  
He had just opened his mouth to speak, although he was unsure of what to say, but he would never know what he would have said at all because right at that moment a head poked through the door that Ginny had left slightly open.  
  
It was Colette Villons.  
  
"Harry? I talked to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," She said promptly, stepping inside the room with a nod at Ginny and an amused glance at the still-sleeping Sirius before focusing on Harry. "You can talk to Pettigrew as soon as you wish."  
  
It took a moment for Harry to find his voice, but when he did, he asked, "Now? Could we do it now?"  
  
Colette nodded, then jerked her head in the direction of the other bed in the room. "Sirius. Wake him up first. He'd want to know."  
  
Harry took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. "Yeah, yeah, I will."  
  
"And I'll go find Mum and everyone," Ginny said quietly, smiling at Harry before slipping out of the room. Harry blinked. One moment, she was there and saying that she liked him...and he was realizing some things himself...the next moment...he shook his head a bit. When Ginny was gone, Colette looked at him.  
  
"Take your time, Harry," She said, giving him a wink that was meant more to reassure herself than the teenage boy in front of her. "You don't need to rush out right this second." Glancing at Sirius once more, she quickly left the room.  
  
*Don't need to rush out...yeah, right...* Harry thought almost bitterly, suddenly forgetting about Ginny as he threw aside his blankets and crossed the room to wake up his godfather. He wanted to get this done and finished with as soon as was humanly possible...Sirius needed his freedom...  
  
A barely detectable ominous note tugged at his heart as he sat down at the edge of Sirius's bed. Everything was changing around him so quickly, only in the past week or two had his life taken on this new reality. One month ago he never would have pictured himself here...in St. Mungo's...  
  
As he reached over to wake up his godfather, he felt the colors of the world swirl around him, a blurry rainbow of emotions, memories, events, dreams, pasts...and futures.  
  
What happened today would determine how the rest of his life-and his godfather's-would be lived out.  
  
And he wanted to make sure that their dreams, their fantasies, the way it should have been but wasn't...would become a reality.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: I hope that, even after the 5th book comes out, people will still be interested in reading my story...I know that I'm going to finish it and post it, whether or not people will read it.  
  
Anyway, merry Harry Potter Eve, everyone! May your many hours of reading be merry and bright!  
  
Yeah, that was corny, I know...but I'm so excited about the book! The next chapter won't come out immediately, probably sometime late next week or the week after. I'm not going to write anything until the middle of this week, cause for the next few days I'm gonna hibernate until I've finished the book, and more likely than not the majority of you readers will, too, eh? The Harry Potter section of this site is going to be pretty quiet this week, I daresay.  
  
Was this chapter sort of pointless? I had originally planned to push it on a bit longer, but I wanted to get it out to you guys before hype that's been building up with the 5th book reaches downright hysteria. It's almost like the quiet before the storm...pretty appropriate, considering the weather that we've been having around here recently...  
  
Wow, I'm all over the place today. Onto the reviewers!  
  
The Elfin Child: Lol that's a good idea! You should use it sometime, definitely! My way to scare Pettigrew into talking was pretty much revealed in this chapter...cause Pettigrew isn't a total coward. No, not completely...but he cracks under pressure, I think...  
  
kateydidnt: As you could see, I did think of Veritaserum...does it make more sense now? I hope!  
  
kagome-leostargirl: I'm glad you love it! And Peter is a bastard! And no, you can't spell! Hehe.  
  
celestial princess: Random moods are good, Dena...they're very good for you...  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: I know the feeling. Pettigrew better do this or do that...gr...well, maybe Sirius will become free in the 5th book! I sure hope so...I love Sirius...  
  
Well, happy reading everyone, and Happy Harry Day! 


	23. Oil and Water

Disclaimer: If I really owned Harry Potter, how stupid would I be to write fanfiction for it?  
  
A/N: Hem, hem! To everyone who read Ootp: I'm going to continue writing this story just as if I never knew anything about the Ministry of Magic, or whatever, or that a certain...ahem...*someone* died. And to all the people who are mourning about that death, you might want to check out my newest short story, "Beyond the Veil." I had someone tell me that it really helped them a lot... All I can say is, is that I was like completely bawling my head off when I read about the death-not too long before I wrote that-so it's pretty emotional...  
  
Does anybody know the female version of the word "minister"??? Is it "ministress" or something? And on a completely different note, has anybody seen "Pirates of the Caribbean"? Is Orlando Bloom gorgeous or what?  
  
"Truth may be stretched but cannot be broken. It always gets above falsehood as oil does above water."  
  
--Miguel de Cervantes  
  
Chapter Twenty-three-Oil and Water  
  
As soon as Harry had woken up Sirius and told his godfather that he was going to go and interrogate (for there was no other word for it) Pettigrew that day, Sirius immediately said that he wanted to go with him.  
  
Harry, needless to say, wanted him to go as well, but knew that between the doctors, Remus, Colette, and Dumbledore; he would never be allowed to leave St. Mungo's. Colette and Dumbledore said that Sirius's mere presence at the Ministry of Magic building would be enough to cause a mighty uproar and possibly even a riot. The doctors, on the other hand, were simply worried about Sirius's health, and didn't want him to go trooping around London and making his condition worse, as a human or otherwise.  
  
Harry, however, suspected that there was one additional reason that Remus in particular did not want Sirius to be present at the interrogation. Although Harry knew that Remus was as concerned about his friend's health just as much as everybody else was, and he of course didn't want there to be a riot at the Ministry... Harry suspected that he was also wary of what Sirius might do when put into the same room as Pettigrew, right under the Minister of Magic's nose or not.  
  
And, frankly, if he was to be perfectly honest with himself, as much as Harry would have enjoyed Sirius's company-however canine it might be-he didn't think he should go, either, it was just safer for him to stay here.  
  
After several conversations with various people, Sirius finally accepted that he would have to stay at the hospital during the interrogation, though he wasn't exactly happy about it.  
  
"I don't want to go just for the hell of seeing the interrogation, Harry," Sirius told him as Harry sat on the edge of his bed, putting on his shoes. He glanced up at him before looking back down at his feet, smiling slightly.  
  
"I know, Sirius."  
  
"I also wanted to be there with you, Harry," Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard him. Harry didn't look up. "I mean, I know that you've been given so much responsibility and stuff throughout your life, more than anyone your age should have-I mean, you're not even fifteen yet! And I thought...I mean, I just thought..."  
  
Harry finished tying his left shoe and looked up at his godfather, one of his eyebrows slightly raised. He wondered where this was leading. Meanwhile, Sirius was still talking. Harry looked back down at his shoes and continued to tie them.  
  
"I just want to be there for you, that's all. I mean, no one ever really has, am I right?"  
  
Harry finished tying his right shoe and looked up at Sirius again, nodding mutely, as his throat has become slightly constricted.  
  
He met Sirius's eyes and they stared at each other for a moment. There was a powerful feeling that passed between them right then, so that Harry swayed slightly from where he sat on his bed. He suddenly felt a strong wave of affection toward the man who was sitting in front of him, and he somehow knew that, without a doubt, Sirius was feeling the same way. But then the moment passed, and both of them looked away at the same time- Harry to his shoes again, Sirius to his hands, which were twisting together in his lap.  
  
"Er," Harry finally said after a moment of awkward silence. "Um...I guess I should be leaving for the Ministry soon."  
  
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. "You should."  
  
Another awkward silence.  
  
Finally, Harry stood up, brushed off his pants unnecessarily, but didn't say anything. The last time Harry could remember feeling this uncomfortable around Sirius was in the Shrieking Shack that night over a year ago, when Sirius had been trying to convince Harry of his innocence. Harry wasn't even sure why he felt so uncomfortable right then.  
  
"Erm...bye," Harry said, glancing at Sirius once before walking towards the door.  
  
"Harry, wait," Sirius called out suddenly. Harry turned around almost hopefully, but then masked it and simply looked at Sirius expectantly.  
  
"Just...be careful, okay?" Sirius said, still staring at his lap. "Don't...don't do anything stupid."  
  
Harry, despite everything, smiled. "Sirius, I'm only going to the Ministry, not to fight Voldemort."  
  
"I know that," Sirius said, a little hastily, looking up and smiling at him back. "Just...you know."  
  
Harry stared at him. He was about to say something along the lines of, "No, actually, I don't know," when Sirius answered his unspoken question.  
  
"Just...I really care about you, kid, you know that, right?"  
  
Harrry's throat had become slightly constricted again.  
  
"Like...like I said before, you've never really had anyone before, and I want to be that someone...am I making any sense?"  
  
Harry paused and then nodded, as an odd choking noise came from the back of his throat.  
  
"Just...forget about Wormtail, and Voldemort for a moment. I mean, seriously, Harry, just remember that I really care about you," Sirius said almost insistently, looking up but not meeting Harry's eyes. It seemed that he had been wanting to say this for a long time. "If everything else goes wrong, and it seems like the whole world has gone completely mad...just remember that I care about you, okay, kid? Cause that...that won't change."  
  
Harry was honestly unsure of the ability of his legs to support him any longer, but he didn't move. He could never remember, in all of his life, someone saying things like this to him before...  
  
He tried to speak, but it didn't exactly work. "I...Sirius...I..." His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to tell everything to Sirius, how he realized at that moment just how much *he* cared about *him*, that the feeling was mutual, and that Sirius had been more of parent to him than anyone else ever had before...  
  
But the words didn't seem to need to be spoken. He simply met Sirius's eyes, and Sirius met his, and they both understood each other. Harry knew immediately that he had gotten the message across.  
  
He stumbled out of the hospital room and into the hallway a few seconds later, feeling as if Sirius had just healed a particularly nasty wound that Harry had had...although he hadn't been quite sure of the wound's existence beforehand... It was like Sirius had just filled in an empty space in Harry's heart, an empty space that, previously, Harry hadn't known that he had...  
  
It was a good feeling.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry's heart seemed to fancy jumping clear out of his chest as he, with Colette Villons and Remus Lupin at his side, entered the Department of Magical Law Enforcement section of the Ministry of Magic.  
  
Peter Pettigrew had been kept in a spare prisoners' cell in the Ministry building rather than being taken off to Azkaban for the past week or so, and Harry felt very grateful for that fact. He really didn't feel like trooping out to Azkaban Island-which was off the coast of western Scotland-not to mention dealing with dementors. This was much simpler.  
  
He had never been to the Ministry of Magic building before, but if truth be told, he was feeling too apprehensive about questioning Pettigrew that he didn't really notice or appreciate anything he saw around him as Colette led him quickly to her old department. In fact, he barely registered as the same people who waved to Colette-and she nodded curtly at- stopped and stared for a moment, eyes shamelessly flicking to his scar. All he was aware of was the fact that he was very tired, he had a headache, and he wanted to get this over with as soon as was humanly possible.  
  
By the time that they finally reached the section of the building where the prisoners' cells were kept, Remus Lupin had his hand on Harry's shoulder, and Colette was looking very grim.  
  
After checking through with the various secretaries at different points throughout the area-all of which questioned them extensively about their purpose there, but with good reason-the three of them entered a small room. The room was completely bare save for a few hard-backed chairs lined up against the opposite wall, next to another door. On one of those chairs sat a young woman with curly, dark brown hair that Harry didn't recognize. She was holding a clipboard on her lap. On the other chair sat Albus Dumbledore.  
  
He looked as grim and serious as Harry had ever seen him. The twinkle that usually resided in his blue eyes was literally nonexistent, and he stood up quickly as they entered, his posture very straight.  
  
Before the three of them or the young woman could speak, Dumbledore had opened his mouth and was looking at them all very carefully. "I am going to be regulating the interview with Peter Pettigrew. I will be doing some of the questioning, Colette will as well if it is needed. Harry, you sit with Colette and Remus and don't say anything unless you find it necessary to speak to further the interview. With luck, your simple presence will be enough. This is Emma Landry," He nodded at the young woman, who stood up and smiled nervously at them. "She will be recording the events of the interview. This way." And without another word, Dumbledore turned on his heel and exited through the opposite door.  
  
Emma Landry jumped to follow him and hurried out the door, and Colette strode swiftly after them. Remus gave Harry a little push from behind-haven taken his hand off Harry's shoulder-and Harry followed the others, feeling startled and slightly bewildered. He had never seen his headmaster so formal before, and was very surprised not to have received any acknowledgement from him other than the voicing of what he was to do. He had expected *something*, just maybe a small smile or even the tiniest of winks. But then something else occurred to him.  
  
"Um, Professor Lupin-" Harry whispered as they made their way down a dimly lit hallway.  
  
"Harry, please, call me Remus. 'Professor' sounds so formal."  
  
"Right, er, Remus-Dumbledore's qualified to do this? To regulate the interview, I mean? Wouldn't it normally be someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who did this?"  
  
"Dumbledore volunteered to do this," Remus muttered in Harry's ear as they turned a corner into another hallway. "And he *is* qualified for this job. He's qualified for a good many things that you don't know about, Harry. Also, Colette is present, and her being the new minister, that's more than good enough."  
  
Harry nodded, beginning to feel slightly sick again. He wanted nothing more at that moment than for this whole interrogation to be over, and he could be back in the hospital room, talking happily with Sirius.  
  
Suddenly, Colette stopped short directly in front of him, and he promptly bumped into her. Remus stopped, falling into him slightly, and they all stumbled ungracefully over to where Dumbledore had stopped with Emma Landry at his side.  
  
He was standing in front of a door that looked just like any other door in that hallway, or anywhere else in the building for that matter, but Harry could tell from the way that Emma Landry was looking at it apprehensively that this was where Wormtail was being kept. Even Colette was looking at the door nervously, which was quite uncharacteristic of her.  
  
Dumbledore made sure that they were all there and ready before wordlessly opening the door and leading them all inside.  
  
The room that Harry entered was fairly large, but was separated down the middle by a wall of what appeared to be unbreakable glass. On the opposite side from which they had entered, on the other side of the glass, sat Peter Pettigrew.  
  
He looked positively terrible. He had lost a lot of weight since Harry had seen him last nearly a month before, and was now looking rather skinny. His short, stringy hair was horribly greasy and dirty-as if he hadn't had it cleaned in a long time-and there were dark shadows under his eyes. He was sitting in the corner of his side of the room, his knees brought up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Also on the other side of the glass were a bed and an uneaten tray of what appeared to be a hamburger.  
  
Harry suppressed the urge to freeze as soon as he entered the room and saw the man, and instead walked over, following Colette, to where five hard-backed chairs sat near the glass wall. As he moved across the room, he could feel Wormtail's eyes on him, never once looking at any of the other people who had entered the room, even Remus. Harry reached a chair sat down between quickly Colette and Remus, his legs suddenly shaky and a little unsteady.  
  
After he sat, Harry looked up to see that Pettigrew was still staring at him. He stared defiantly back, their eyes locking together but faces blank. Harry's heart was hammering in his chest, surely loud enough to be heard, and he noted with mild surprise that he could feel Colette trembling slightly at his side.  
  
"Do you absolutely refuse to open your mouth and drink anything other than water, Pettigrew? Such as Truth Veritaserum?" Colette asked abruptly.  
  
Pettigrew looked at her, and then shook his head mutely. Emma Landry was already bent over her clipboard, curly hair falling over her shoulders, scribbling away. Dumbledore sighed.  
  
"Well, then, I suppose we must do this the hard way," He said heavily, giving Harry and Remus a swift glance before turning back to the man in front of him.  
  
"Peter Pettigrew, you are being accused of the murders of twelve Muggles-the names of which I have with me here-" (he patted his pocket) "-- on the 31st of October, 1981; working for and assisting the Dark Lord Voldemort-" (Colette shuddered slightly, and Emma looked up in alarm, before turning back to her clipboard, however, Remus and Harry sat quite still)"--the framing of Sirius Black for the previous crimes mentioned, and assisting in the attempted murder of Harry Potter on June the 24th, 1995."  
  
There was a short pause. Pettigrew gave no sign that he had heard any of Dumbledore's words, just continued sitting there and staring at them blankly. After a moment, Dumbledore asked, "Do you plead innocent or guilty?"  
  
Still no response. The only sound was that of Emma Landry's quill scratching the parchment on her clipboard.  
  
Dumbledore sighed again, and then said quietly, "You are just going to make this harder for yourself, Peter. By not responding to us, you are making your situation worse. You don't have a lawyer, but if you did, he or she would most probably be advising you to speak."  
  
For the first time, Pettigrew opened his mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was very quiet. "Innocent."  
  
"WHAT?" Harry yelled. He made to jump to his feet, but Remus was quicker and soon had a death grip on Harry's arm, forcing him to stay in his chair. That didn't stop Harry from shouting, however. "You say that you're INNOCENT? Why, you--"  
  
"Harry!" Dumbledore said sharply, and Harry closed his mouth with a small snap, looking at Pettigrew furiously. Pettigrew had looked at him for a split second as well, and as he turned away Harry thought he had caught an emotion in his eyes-was it fear?  
  
"How do you plan to prove your innocence, Peter?" Dumbledore asked calmly. Remus chanced a glance at Dumbledore, and marveled how his face and eyes were completely expressionless.  
  
Pettigrew shifted a little and sat up a bit straighter against the wall, his knees lowering slightly from in front of his face. "I didn't do it. That's how I plan to prove it," His voice grew stronger, and he shifted again. "I didn't do any of those things. It was Black!"  
  
Harry swore under his breath but didn't attempt to get up again. Remus still had his hand on Harry's arm, but his grip had loosened somewhat, as his arm was now trembling slightly with suppressed anger. On the other side of Harry, Colette had turned very pale.  
  
"How do you plan to prove that?" Dumbledore repeated calmly.  
  
"What-what's there to prove?" Pettigrew said defiantly, and Harry noticed that, like the time in the Shrieking Shack over one year ago, he was stuttering. "I-I'm not the murderer! I-I didn't kill anyone! Black did it! He's a-a Death Eater!"  
  
"DON'T CALL SIRIUS A DEATH EATER!" Harry yelled again, now there was a note of hysteria in his voice. This time, it was Colette who-despite the fact that at this point she looked nearly as light as her hair-gave Harry a warning look. Remus's grip on Harry's arm tightened again, but Dumbledore sat very still, acting as if he had not heard Harry at all.  
  
"He doesn't have the Mark," Dumbledore said, still unearthly calm.  
  
"He-he-" Pettigrew was sputtering. He seemed to have overlooked this minor detail. "The-the Dark Lord didn't give the Mark to a few people. He- he thought that-thought that people would see the Mark, and then their true identity would be known..."  
  
"And how, exactly, do you know this?"  
  
"I-I-" Pettigrew was looking around wildly, much like he had that night in the Shrieking Shack. He had unwillingly backed himself into a trap, and there was no way out of it now. "I..."  
  
Harry wanted to jump up and scream at Pettigrew, but instead he remained sitting as he spoke, though his voice was audibly shaking.  
  
"We saw you," Harry said, as calmly as he could muster. "Remus and I, not to mention a few other people. We saw you admit to framing Sirius and killing all those people and working for Voldemort. You admitted it! You said that you did it! And you were there with Voldemort in that graveyard, too! And now you're sitting in front of me and saying that you're innocent?"  
  
Pettigrew looked at Harry. His knees had been brought up to his chest again, and now Harry was sure that he hadn't imagined the fear that he thought he had seen in Pettigrew's eyes previously. Now, it was obvious to anyone who could see that Pettigrew was positively terrified. But then his fearful eyes darted away from Harry and found Dumbledore, who was still sitting and staring with an expression of pure calm and serenity on his face.  
  
"Dumbledore..." Pettigrew gasped. "You-you weren't there in the Shrieking Shack that night...you-you didn't see what they did to me-"  
  
"Did to you?!" Harry yelled yet again. He felt angrier than he had felt in a long time. "What d'you mean, did to you-mphh-" His next words were muffled as Remus calmly reached over and placed the hand that didn't have a hold on Harry's arm firmly against Harry's mouth. Harry glared at him, and Remus-with a warning flash in his eyes-took his hand away.  
  
There was a short silence. Colette was still pale and trembling, Emma scribbled away, and Dumbledore sat and stared at Pettigrew with an unreadable expression on his face, while Remus seemed to be looking everywhere except at the man who had once been his friend. As for Harry, meanwhile, if looks could kill, Pettigrew would be long past dead by now.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore seemed to be the only one who could manage to speak-or, in Harry's case, manage to speak without his voice reaching several decibels above what was considered normal.  
  
"Peter," Dumbledore said quietly, and Harry wondered wildly for a moment why Dumbledore was still politely using Pettigrew's first name. "Do you recall that, in the Shrieking Shack, your life was put in danger?"  
  
"Yes, of course I remember!" Pettigrew cried, sitting up straighter again, apparently under the impression that there had been a transfer of power. "Black and-and Lupin, they-they tried to kill me!"  
  
"And why didn't they?" Dumbledore asked, still very quietly.  
  
"Because-because he-" Pettigrew stopped and stared at Harry. "He-he stopped them...he didn't let them...he..."  
  
"...saved your life," Remus finished quietly for him. Harry jumped slightly; it was the first time he had spoken up. "You owe him, Wormtail. You owe him a lot. You're in his debt. He saved your life, and now you need to do something for him."  
  
Pettigrew turned to Remus and stared, obviously petrified, at his old friend. "What...what do I have to do?"  
  
"Tell the truth," Harry said steadily, and Dumbledore sat back in his chair, confident that the interrogation was heading in the right direction without his help. "Tell the world what *really* happened, that you're the guilty one and that Sirius is innocent. Tell. Now," He added, a fire burning in his eyes and in his heart. "Do it. At least, that way you won't be in my debt any more."  
  
Pettigrew seemed somehow affected by Harry's words. He stared at him, and for a moment Harry was quite sure that a change came over him by the oddest expression on his face, but then it was gone and Wormtail was a scared little rat again. Cowering against the wall, he opened his mouth and began to speak, and for the first time in his life, Harry was glad to hear that voice.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: I was going to keep going a little more, than I decided that you guys needed this chapter out now. I promise I'll try to get chapters out more often now that it's summer...  
  
The beginning is a bit emotional, eh? I made sure to get a scene like that slipped somewhere into the story, because one of the primary reasons that I started thinking about writing fanfiction, and "Out of the Night" in particular, was to write a Sirius/Harry bonding fic. Of course, it's become much more than that now.  
  
Now, I need you guys to say what you want when you review: Shorter chapters that come out more frequently, or longer chapters that don't come out as frequently? I don't think there will be any 16 page chapters any more, cause it's easier for me to do this in blocks at this point, but you never know...  
  
Sob! Order of the Phoenix! NOOO!  
  
jaet: Thanks! Well, there WILL be Colette/someone, I'm just not telling who yet. Hehe...  
  
Yuffie-Girl: I updated last near the end of June, ha! Yeah, I gotta finish this story, no matter what... You haven't finished the book yet?!?!? Argh! Don't go to my bio page, there's spoilers there! FINISH IT! Hehe...yep, Harry/Ginny...first time I've ever really written romance, did it work?  
  
The Elfin Child: Bawling your eyes out at the end? That's exactly what I've been saying I was doing...bawling my little head off... Oui, c'est la vie... I loved that character though, I mean, just look at my story!  
  
Silver Scale Serpent: Aha! New reviewer! Hehe...you took earth science? I took that last year...I did pretty well; it was a lot easier than the course itself. This year I took biology (yay, that was easy!) and Math A...ha I was among the 20% of the entire state that passed the latter...surprised the hell out of me...sure, I passed by one point, but who cares, I PASSED!  
  
Yeah I know, he was one of my favorite characters too! Nooooo...  
  
celestial princess: Well, you're not gonna read this for a while, but...how did I do with the romance? First time I've ever really written it...  
  
COME WHAT MAY!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112: I read the whole book, yep. It was actually my favorite out of the five, but the 3rd is close behind...yeah the twins rocked, didn't they? I loved their exit...and Flitwick left a bit of that swamp as a memorial...they rock. 


	24. It's not over till it's over

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and all that jazz... I do own, however, Emma Landry, Sean Kellen, this gal Debbie, and of course, Colette Villons.  
  
A/N: For those who don't know, Glasgow is a city in Scotland, I believe...hehe Scotland! Ewan McGregor land! Ahem...  
  
Wow. I just realized that this story is like, over. Wow. There might be one more chapter after this, but I doubt it, more likely than not it'll probably just be an epilogue that ties up some loose ends that I've dropped, and round it off at a nice 25...wow.  
  
Chapter Twenty-four-It's not over till it's over  
  
When Harry slipped back into the St. Mungo's room that he shared with Sirius nearly an hour and a half later with Remus Lupin at his side, the first words that came out of Sirius's mouth were, "What happened?"  
  
Harry merely sank onto his bed, for some reason completely exhausted, and let Remus tell the story of what happened while interrogating Pettigrew.  
  
Sirius was quiet the whole time and didn't interrupt while Remus spoke. He was even silent for a moment after Remus had finished, after which he said, "Well, at least he's still got some shred of humanity left inside of him."  
  
"Who, Pettigrew?" Harry asked. He had lain back down onto his bed and was now looking at Sirius curiously.  
  
"Yeah," Sirius said. He looked thoughtful. "Maybe it was good that we didn't kill him that day, Moony, and that Harry saved him. He fulfilled the debt."  
  
"So he did," Remus agreed. He was looking thoughtful as well. "What's that old expression? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer..." His voice trailed off.  
  
Harry was silent, but he was thinking as well. *Yeah, well, Pettigrew's not exactly one of the brightest fish in the sea, but at least he's not a total idiot.* But then he broke the silence.  
  
"So what's going to happen now?" He asked aloud to no one in particular. Remus and Sirius glanced at each other.  
  
"Well," Remus said slowly. "There's not going to be an official trial..." His voice trailed off for a moment, obviously thinking, before he said, "My best guess is that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will take a look at Pettigrew's testimony, evaluate all the new information...and then I suppose make a decision regarding what will happen to Sirius."  
  
Harry paled slightly...it wasn't like the majority of the Ministry officials were exactly Sirius's best friends. But then Remus must have caught the expression on Harry's face because he added quickly, "Don't worry, Harry. With Pettigrew's confession, there's no way that they could find Sirius guilty."  
  
"Fudge said that Barty Crouch Jr. had gone mad," Harry told him quietly. "And that he wasn't really working for Voldemort."  
  
"Yeah, well, Fudge isn't exactly in a position of power any more," Sirius said with a grin. "And no one can deny the fact that Pettigrew's alive."  
  
Harry nodded, though he wasn't entirely reassured. "When will we know what the Ministry people decide?"  
  
"Probably later today," Remus said, glancing at the clock on the wall.  
  
"Yeah, I have a feeling that Colette will beat it through the Ministry officials so that we get their decision as soon as possible," Sirius said. He was smiling, but Harry could see through the smile and saw how nervous Sirius really was, like himself.  
  
Harry glanced at the clock as well. It was only half past five. He sighed. One thing was for sure--it was going to be a long, long evening.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ron Weasley was having the first truly enjoyable evening that he'd had in what seemed like a very long time. Yes, of course, he knew about the interrogation that Harry had had with Pettigrew from Ginny, and that the Ministry still hadn't come to a decision regarding Sirius yet, and yes, he was quite anxious about it, but all the same he couldn't help but feel optimistic. He couldn't imagine how, with Colette's now more prominent presence at the Ministry, plus the valuable information that Pettigrew had supplied, that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could-in three million years-find Sirius to be guilty.  
  
The other residents of his house at the moment seemed to be feeling the same way. Granted, Mrs. Weasley was quieter and more subdued than usual, Mr. Weasley was somewhat jumpy, and Hermione looked as though she felt rather sick, they all knew that Sirius would come off innocent. There was just no way that he couldn't.  
  
Fred and George, perhaps, were the only ones around who were acting completely as themselves. Ever since learning that Sirius Black and their old teacher Professor Lupin were Padfoot and Moony of the Marauders, they had practically idolized them, and could hardly wait for the moment when they would be able to talk to them about pranking and such. They were in such a good mood that they helped with the plans and preparation more than they usually did, throwing themselves into their tasks with alarmingly large amounts of enthusiasm.  
  
In fact, everyone in the house took that day as an opportunity to prepare more for what they were planning...they were so busy, in fact, that it was nearly half past six before any of them managed to take a look at that day's issue of the Daily Prophet.  
  
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting at the kitchen table, taking a break and talking idly. Mrs. Weasley was bustling around, beginning to prepare dinner, and Mr. Weasley had just walked into the room and glanced at the newspaper that was lying on the counter.  
  
"Don't know why you still get that newspaper, Mum," Ron commented, watching his father pick it up. "Load of rubbish, that. Never says anything useful anymore. Gets all its information from the Ministry..."  
  
"Well, it does have *some* true things in it, Ron," Hermione said reprovingly, glancing at him. "Some members of the Ministry *can* be trusted, you know."  
  
"I know that," Ron said quickly. "I *know* that, Hermione...I just can't help thinking about all the-er-'true' things that the paper published about Dumbledore being a nutter and You-Know-Who not being back, and stuff."  
  
Hermione was about to say something more, but then Mr. Weasley interrupted. "Well, at least it was stopped before it started," He sighed, dropping the paper on the table.  
  
"What was stopped?" Ginny asked curiously, trying to read the paper upside- down.  
  
"What your mother and I were talking about the other day," Mr. Weasley answered vaguely. "The morning that we found out about Harry's...disappearance."  
  
Ron frowned. He did remember his parents acting very strange that morning, and his mother mentioning that Fudge was doing something...but, with everything that had happened as of late, he had almost forgotten about it.  
  
"Yeah, what was that about?" He asked his father.  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter very much," Mr. Weasley said. "Since Fudge isn't in a position of power at the Ministry anymore...but basically, while he was still Minister of Magic, he was considering the steps it would take to get Dumbledore thrown out of Hogwarts, and that's what the article in the paper is about."  
  
"What!" Ginny shrieked, staring at her father. "Get Dumbledore fired?!"  
  
"Fudge can't do anything anymore," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. She had stopped her meal preparations and was now leaning over her husband's shoulder, reading the article. "The only people who could really fire Dumbledore are the members of the Board of Directors, and if I'm not mistaken, Colette holds some amount of sway over them...and I doubt the Board would fire Dumbledore, anyway. I don't think it's anything to worry about."  
  
Ron stared at his parents. "How on Earth did an idiot like Fudge ever manage to get himself elected as minister? Why didn't Dumbledore take the job?"  
  
"Because he loves Hogwarts too much and doesn't want to leave it," Hermione said quietly. "That's what I've always heard, anyway. Besides, now that Colette is minister, things will definitely be better now-"  
  
She was interrupted, however, when a woman's head appeared in the kitchen fireplace.  
  
Ron, Hermione and Ginny didn't recognize the head that sat in the fireplace- or knew the name of the woman to whom it belonged-but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to know her.  
  
Mr. Weasley swiveled around at the fire, a tired smile covering his face. "Ah, Debbie, how are you?"  
  
"No time for pleasantries, Authur," The woman called Debbie said immediately. Shaking short black hair out of her face, her gray eyes appeared to be burning. "You have to come in to the Ministry right now."  
  
Mr. Weasley sat up quickly in his chair. "Why? What's going on?"  
  
"There was another Death Eater attack, and it is bad. Very bad," Debbie said heavily.  
  
Ginny gasped, and Hermione let out what seemed like a frightened little squeak. Ron's senses were instantly on alert, and he listened carefully to the conversation.  
  
Mr. Weasley had turned very pale. "Where?" He whispered.  
  
"Glasgow," Debbie said, her voice catching a little in her throat. "Up north. Where..."  
  
Mr. Weasley nodded. "I know. Keep your chin up, Debbie, I'll be there very soon." And as Debbie's head disappeared with a small popping sound, Mr. Weasley was on his feet, grabbing his cloak and swirling it around him.  
  
"Debbie's sister lives up in Glasgow," Mr. Weasley said stiffly in response to Mrs. Weasley's questioning look. "I have to go, Molly. I'll keep in touch." He kissed her on the cheek, and with a quick swish of his cloak, he was gone.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Remus was long gone. He had left St. Mungo's nearly an hour ago for the Ministry, to try and find out what the situation was concerning Sirius.  
  
Meanwhile, Sirius lay in his bed in the hospital room, not speaking, not moving-just lying there, muscles tensed up and teeth grinding together, staring at the ceiling. Every once in a while he would mutter something inaudible, but never actually spoke to his godson.  
  
Harry watched his godfather with a strange mixture of apprehension and amusement. At any other time, the sight of Sirius acting like this would have made Harry want to laugh, but at the moment all he could muster was a weak, shaky smile. He felt rather ill, and his thoughts swirled like a tornado around him. He made no effort to calm or slow down his mind, but simply let everything consume him. Resisting the gnawing anxiety took up more energy than he was willing to give up at the moment.  
  
He was quite tired, but...no. Falling asleep was not an option...then he would miss the outcome of the interrogation... But he knew that if he didn't do something to revive himself somewhat sometime soon, then he was going to doze off...  
  
Finally, in the end, he could only think of one way to keep himself awake.  
  
"I saw you in 1981, you know," Harry said to Sirius suddenly. Speaking and processing what other people were saying was going to keep him awake; that was for sure. Besides, he had been meaning to mention this for a while ever since he had come back from his little time traveling excursion. "You seemed...really..."  
  
Sirius was silent, but Harry knew he was listening, because he had turned his head to look towards him and watching him curiously. "...different."  
  
"I was different," Sirius said after a moment of thinking. "I was a lot more carefree, more innocent...and happy...not as burdened...or haunted..." He swallowed. "Or feeling the effects and after-effects of Azkaban."  
  
Harry was silent for a few seconds before he began saying what he really wanted to say. "You suspected him, didn't you?"  
  
"Hm?" Sirius asked. He had turned over onto his side and was now propping his elbow up on his pillow, frowning slightly.  
  
"Pettigrew. You knew that he betrayed my parents, beforehand...you said to my dad that you were worried that something was going to happen..."  
  
"Yeah..." Sirius said thoughtfully. "At your house? That was just before I went to Peter's...to make sure that everything was alright, cause I was worried..." He sighed. "I was also babysitting you that night while your parents went out to eat, as you obviously know..." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "You were a very good baby, never much trouble and easy to please...I used to turn into a dog and you would climb on me, that never scared you at all."  
  
Harry smiled. Having never heard before about his youngest years, he liked listening to Sirius talk about him, and nearly forgot about what they were both anticipating.  
  
"One would think that it would scare a baby when their godfather suddenly turned into a large furry animal-or their father into some enormous thing with antlers, for that matter-but you loved it..." His voice trailed off, but he was smiling as well.  
  
"And when Wormtail turned into a rat, you used to chase him around the house-"  
  
Sirius was interrupted suddenly as the door to the hospital room burst open and Colette and Remus came flying in, Colette first-her face flushed-and Remus after, shouting at the top of his lungs.  
  
"You did it, Sirius! We did it!" Remus was yelling as he burst into the room, breathless. "You're free!"  
  
Harry froze. But before he could react, both Remus and Colette-and both uncharacteristically, from how Harry knew them-leapt onto the bed and were soon smothering Sirius with hugs. By the time they finally stopped to give him room to breathe, Harry was on his feet and at Sirius's bed too, feeling somewhat numb and his mouth hanging slightly open.  
  
"F-free?" Sirius croaked; sounding much like he had when Harry had first met him, his eyes wide as he stared up at the people around him. "*Free?*"  
  
"Free!" Remus replied triumphantly. Then he jumped up, rounded on Harry, and surprised the heck out the teenager as he pulled him into a hug. Harry, still numb with shock, could barely respond to the gesture, but the next moment Remus had left Harry and went to Colette, grabbing her hand and whirling her around the room.  
  
Colette, Harry noted distantly, was also acting somewhat strange...she was not being her usual composed self, but was instead laughing loudly, her hair flying around her face, and she had soon grabbed Remus's arms and was dancing with him around the room.  
  
Harry could do nothing but stare at the pair for a moment-some part of him was feeling amused-before sinking down onto the edge of Sirius's bed and meeting his godfather's eyes.  
  
"You're free," Harry whispered finally.  
  
"Free," Sirius repeated. "Free..." It seemed to be the only word that he was capable of speaking. But then suddenly be broke out of his trance, let out an enormous whoop and grabbed Harry in the second hug that Harry had received in the span of about two minutes.  
  
This time, however, Harry managed to respond to the hug. He let out the first true laugh that he had had in what seemed like a long time as he tumbled down onto the bed, Sirius's arms wrapped around him and his head pressed against Sirius's shoulder.  
  
After a few moments, though, Sirius relaxed his grip on Harry, but Harry didn't move, but just leaned onto Sirius's pillows, his godfather's arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders. For a few fleeting seconds he felt quite odd and out of place-this was the first truly parental gesture that he had ever received, minus the hugs from Mrs. Weasley-but then he forgot about it and just kept thinking, *Sirius is free, Sirius is free...*  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Remus and Colette had stopped their dancing and were now seated at the edge of Harry's vacated bed, looking at each other with the oddest expressions on their faces. That exact moment seemed to freeze in time, and Harry was sure that he would never forget it, no matter how long he lived-him lying in Sirius's arms, and Colette and Remus staring at each other...it seemed to last forever.  
  
But then the moment was broken as Colette stood up suddenly. "I...have to go, things to do at the Ministry..." Sirius and Harry remained silent, but Remus nodded mutely.  
  
"I...I..." Colette, was once again not like herself, and seemed at a loss for words. "I..."  
  
Remus stood up and stared at her. She stared back. Neither Sirius nor Harry moved a muscle. Then, quite suddenly, Colette leaned upwards and placed a kiss smack on Remus's lips. Then, very quickly, but obviously happily, she practically skipped out of the room.  
  
Remus didn't move, just stood, staring at the spot where she had been. Sirius, however, let out a laugh.  
  
"Whoa there, Moony! You okay? Eh? Moony?"  
  
But Remus had simply lain down on Harry's empty bed, staring at the ceiling.  
  
Sirius laughed again, giving Harry a little squeeze. "Colette and Remus, huh? Who would have thought...?"  
  
Harry did not answer. He just lay there on Sirius's bed, hardly daring to move; feeling the happiest that he had ever felt in his life.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Well, there you are! It was rather short, I know... Just the epilogue left, methinks, to finish everything up. How did I do with the romance?  
  
I only got a few responses from people about long vs. short chapters, but since there's hardly anything left...well, you get the idea. The epilogue will most likely be longer; there's stuff to say!  
  
A few chapters back there was some talk about sequels. What do the rest of you lot think? Any ideas? Cause I don't just want to do a sequel just for the heck of having a sequel that has no real plot and turns out crappy. I have a couple of ideas for stories that sound really cool as summaries, but I would really need to brainstorm to work them out...whereas, this story just sort of fell together. If anybody is interested in helping me out with this, say so in a review and leave your email or something...  
  
Oh, and don't go freaking out cause you didn't know what was happening at the Burrow...all in good time, my friends. Besides, us Harry Potter fans are well practiced in patience, don't you agree?  
  
The Elfin Child: Lol you have a Sirius doll? I want one! Heh. Yeah, bonding things are so sweet...well, either way, you get your chapter!  
  
jaet: Lol see? I updated sooner! In not quite two weeks cause it's summer and NO HOMEWORK! Yay! I'm glad you liked that chapter, you thought it was in character? Good, that's good, I was worried it wasn't...I wanted to work up to a little bonding thing, cause I've seen some HP fics that take place after the 4th book where Harry and Sirius just sort of throw themselves at each other and are like "I love you" all over the place. Not that that's incredibly bad, it just doesn't seem like something that either of them would do, so I wanted my thing to be a bit more subtle...I waited until the end of the story and had them talk some first, y'know?  
  
Yuffie-Girl: You skipped ahead? I was in a Harry Potter chatroom (for the first time in about three years) the evening that the book came out, and I presume that it must have been someone from Britain (you know, different time zones, I'm in New York) that had the book already and told me what chapter the death took place in... I didn't look ahead though, I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I had, I just read through, though I was anticipating the chapter and got all nervous when I saw what I was up to... At the time (since it was before like half the Order appeared in the Department of Mysteries)I was thinking it would be Neville...and then when Hermione was hurt I thought it might be her, and same with Tonks... But can you imagine what a shock it was for us who didn't read ahead? It was incredible... But now that I'm reading the book to my brother (In British accents, no less! Hehe) I see that if you really thought about it, you could know that it would be Sirius...there's just something about the tone, I can't explain it...and, oh yeah, if you feel like it...go to page 477 in OotP. I strongly doubt that what Sirius said at the top of the page, followed by what Fred said, was a coincidence, just think about it...  
  
Harry/Sirius slash simply scares me. I don't have a problem with slash in general, but Harry needs a godfather from Sirius, he can find a lover somewhere else!  
  
Tinuviel: Aha! You! You're alive! You disappeared for a while...so, have you read the fifth book?  
  
OH,YEAH-if anyone has anything that they would like me to respond to or answer, then do it in THIS REVIEW-cause the epilogue will be the last time that I'll be responding to reviews for this story...  
  
Au revoir! 


	25. Epilogue: Invictus

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the poem "Invictus", nor do I own the book "A Golden Treasury of Poetry" or the prologue for "Invictus-which are both real--and all that jazz...but I do own Colette-whom I'm actually quite proud of.  
  
A/N: Well, this is it, guys! ::sob:: It's all over... I had a lot of trouble finishing this and took a lot of time, because this story is my last link to the Harry Potter world from before I read OotP, and how I perceived it then...and before Snuffles...well, you know. Sigh...  
  
Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul.  
  
--William Ernest Henley, "Invictus"  
  
Epilogue-Invictus  
  
Harry Potter was having a good day.  
  
He and Sirius had just been released from St. Mungo's that very morning; and their release from the hospital couldn't have happened on a better day.  
  
For today, July 31st, 1995, was Harry's birthday: today was the day that he turned fifteen. Fourteen years of life at the Dursleys were finally over, and he was going to live with Sirius now and be happy, and not have to worry about the Dursleys ever again. What could be a better birthday present?  
  
From the moment he was told that he and his godfather could leave the hospital, Harry thought that the day couldn't get any better than it already was.  
  
But apparently, as Harry would soon find out, it could.  
  
On the insistence of Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley picked up Harry and Sirius from St. Mungo's using a (much to Mr. Weasley's disappointment) non magical car, and drove them to the Burrow, where Harry and Sirius would be staying for the time being.  
  
"We'll stay there until I can find us someplace to live," Sirius had told Harry earlier that day, and his words had caused something like an explosion to occur in the pit of Harry's stomach. *Someplace to live...* Him and Sirius... *Someplace to live...* It was about time!  
  
During the car ride from St. Mungo's to the Burrow Harry sort of zonked out of Sirius and Mr. Weasley's conversation a bit. He simply sat alone in the backseat, staring out of the window as the scenery changed from urban London, to the suburbs, and gradually, to the rural countryside. Not thinking of anything in particular, he only half listened to the conversation that was going on in the front, and didn't really notice Mr. Weasley's apparent nervousness or contained excitement.  
  
When they finally arrived at the Burrow a while later-it seemed like it had been a very long time to Harry-he noticed that Mr. Weasley was acting strangely quieter than he normally was, and appeared to be glancing back at the house anxiously over his shoulder as he got out of the car.  
  
In fact, Harry noticed, glancing at the house himself, everything did seem to have an eerie quiet about it... Usually, he would have been able to hear Mrs. Weasley yelling at someone or other, or the ghoul throwing things around in the attic, or an explosion going off courtesy of Fred and George. But, instead, he heard nothing of the sort.  
  
He glanced at Sirius, who-although he had never been to the Burrow before- seemed to notice that something was up, as well. He raised a questioning eyebrow slightly at Harry, who just shrugged slightly as they followed Mr. Weasley up to the house. He had plenty of other things to worry about besides getting himself worked up about some most likely nonexistent problem with the Weasleys.  
  
Just outside the front door, Mr. Weasley paused. Harry stopped short as to not bump into him, and behind Harry, Sirius was caught by surprise and fell into his godson, who in turn stumbled forward into Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Er...sorry," Sirius muttered, placing his hand firmly upon Harry's shoulder and pulling him back a little. However, Mr. Weasley didn't seem to notice. He just looked around anxiously again, glancing up at the upper levels of the house as though he could sense something that the other two couldn't.  
  
"I'm...home, Molly! Someone!" He raised his voice slightly. "I'm home!"  
  
Sirius's hand still on his shoulder, Harry shifted backwards slightly so that he was leaning into Sirius's arm. From this position, he could glance up at Sirius questioningly without needing to turn around. Sirius, though, just gave Harry a frankly bewildered look, clearly saying that he, like Harry, had no idea why Mr. Weasley was acting so strangely.  
  
"Well, um, I suppose we'll just go in, then," Mr. Weasley said after a moment, smiling sheepishly at Harry and Sirius over his shoulder before unlocking the door and stepping inside.  
  
The house was dark. So dark, in fact, that Harry and Sirius were disoriented as soon as they entered, moving around blindly, unsure of what to do and promptly trodding on each other's feet.  
  
They took a moment to get their bearings together, and then Harry asked, "Where is everyone?"  
  
"Er," Came Mr. Weasley's voice from somewhere to Harry's left. "I'm sure that they're here somewhere..."  
  
Sirius's hand had traveled down from Harry's shoulder to his arm, holding him tightly as if ready to shove him out of danger if someone jumped out of the shadows.  
  
"It's okay, Padfoot," Harry said quietly, using the old nickname in an effort to relax Sirius and gently removing his godfather's hand from his arm. "This is just the Weasley's house, remember? It's okay."  
  
Though Harry himself wondered about the truth of his words. Was it okay? Where *was* everyone? Not ever in his whole life-even during the time when Ginny had been taken captive in the Chamber of Secrets-had Harry ever been in the presence of Weasleys and have it be so quiet.  
  
But...but maybe the rest of the Weasleys weren't here...it seemed that the house was empty, that was for sure. But now Mr. Weasley was speaking again, and when he spoke, his voice sounded odd and cracked, or as though he wasn't quite sure of what he was doing.  
  
"I solemnly swear..." Harry and Sirius both froze. But before either of them could react, light burst in front of their eyes, people seemed to be falling out of the sky from all directions, and several loud, familiar voices finished the sentence for Mr. Weasley.  
  
"...THAT I AM UP TO NO GOOD!"  
  
Unsure of what to do and even more unsure of what was going on, Harry just stood there dumbly as two flashes of hair-one of bright red, one of brown- came flying towards him as Ginny and Hermione threw themselves at Harry. They paused for a moment when they reached him, one on either side of him, but then they simultaneously kissed the cheek of his of which they were closest. All Harry could do was stare blankly as Hermione bounded around from his side to stand in front of him.  
  
"Surprise!" She squealed breathlessly. "Welcome back to both of you-" She nodded, grinning widely, at a shocked Sirius. "-and...happy birthday, Harry!"  
  
She jumped forward, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight hug, causing Harry to stagger backwards for a moment-but then he gathered his thoughts, let out a laugh, and hugged his friend back.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
About forty minutes later, Harry sat at the Weasley's kitchen table, munching on birthday cake and smiling around at everyone who was sitting near him. His happiness was clearly infectious, and soon everyone was acting somewhat loud and giggly. If truth was to be told, then this was really the first birthday party that Harry had ever had-or at least one that he could remember-and that thought itself made him feel nearly ecstatic.  
  
Another thought that pleased him to the very bone was the fact that, for the very first time, the majority of the people that he cared about most in the world were in one place together-with the exception of Hagrid, who was off doing business for Dumbledore. Also that many of these people had put in a lot of time planning the surprise party-which was part birthday party for Harry, part welcoming party for both him and Sirius. The Weasleys and Hermione had put a good deal of work into the surprise, for which Sirius was extremely flattered, and Harry downright shocked-nobody had done such things before for him, ever.  
  
Remus was there as well. "I didn't know about it until last night!" He had said to an unconvinced Sirius desperately, laughing all the while. "I seriously didn't! They only just told me, I had nothing to do with it!"  
  
"Of *course* you didn't," Sirius had told him, grinning, in a voice revealing that he obviously didn't believe his friend.  
  
In fact, Remus had (supposedly) been just as surprised as Sirius and Harry had been at the idea of the party. They were both surprised to learn that Remus hadn't helped with any of the decorations of the Burrow--which had a bit of "the Maruader's touch", as Sirius had put it...for there were lights. There were lights stringing from every doorway and wrapped across the chairs, piled in every corner and decorating nearly every surface- flashing the colors of the rainbow, or the Gryffindor colors of red and gold. A few of them looked quite ordinary and were flashing red and green- Harry strongly suspected that they were Muggle Christmas lights. There was even something that looked like an enormous disco ball, but instead of just hanging from the ceiling in one room it was zooming throughout the house. Ron tried poking it once and it started to very loudly play Muggle music from the seventies.  
  
But Sirius and Harry they were even more surprised that it hadn't been Remus'ss idea to use the sacred and legendary "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" line as a signal for everybody to jump out of their hiding places.  
  
Harry, however, had a sneaking suspicion about who had come up with that clever little idea, and when he approached them about it after finishing with his cake, Fred and George both beamed and grinned.  
  
"Yeah, that was my lovely little gem of an idea," George said proudly, puffing out his chest in an unmistakable imitation of a pompous Percy.  
  
"Yeah, well, I was the one who thought of splitting it up like that, into a call-and-response type thing," Fred added. "Course, the only ones who really understood its significance were Remus, Ron, and Hermione, and we all just assured everyone else that you and Sirius would understand and appreciate it. Luckily, nobody else asked questions."  
  
"Well, Sirius and I loved it," Harry told them, smiling. "I think it was a great idea, though old Padfoot nearly fainted when everyone started saying it."  
  
Both of the twins grinned, and then Fred said, "So, Harry, how do you like our extremely bright decorations?"  
  
Harry laughed. "I figured that it was you! I love them! And that disco ball is certainly...um...interesting-"  
  
"Have you opened the closet near the second floor bathroom yet?" George interrupted Harry anxiously. Harry shook his head slowly, watching them warily.  
  
"Good," George said, sound relieved. "One of our very newest products is in there-fireworks."  
  
Harry stared. "*Fireworks?*"  
  
"Yep," They proudly said together.  
  
"We're hoping that we could lure Hermione there to open the door and set the fireworks off," Fred explained to Harry after he saw the look on his face. "You see, she was the one who gave us the idea. She was talking about a Muggle book called 'The Lord of the Rings'-"  
  
"-that has a wizard in it named Gandalf-"  
  
"-who makes fireworks-"  
  
"-shaped like dragons-"  
  
"-so, we just had to try, of course-"  
  
Harry laughed again. "You should tell that to-well, you know. Padfoot and Moony. I'm sure that they'd love it."  
  
"Good idea," Fred said thoughtfully. "We've been meaning to talk to them for a while anyway..."  
  
"Yeah, let's go, Fred," George agreed. "See ya, Harry!"  
  
Shaking his head and grinning, Harry left the twins and wandered off through the house with the vague idea of finding Ron or Hermione, but instead nearly bumped headlong into Remus right outside the front door, who was looking uncharacteristically flustered.  
  
"Um, Moony?" Harry asked hesitantly, watching as the older man glanced around quickly, as if looking for someone. "Are you...okay?"  
  
He smiled warmly down at Harry, suddenly acting like himself again. "Yes, I'm fine, I just...talked to Colette in the fire, that's all. She wants me to deliver a message to Sirius from her..."  
  
"Colette, eh?" Harry grinned. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to Remus since Colette's memorable parting from him at the hospital. "So, are you two...um...how are you...how is she doing?"  
  
"She's doing fine...I mean..." Remus looked at him carefully, his eyes sparkling. "Honestly, Harry, she's doing wonderful...we're, um..."  
  
"Together?" Harry supplied helpfully, his grin widening.  
  
"Yeah...and, well..." He lowered his voice slightly. "I told her about my...condition...and that if she didn't want to deal with that she could leave me right now, because I didn't want to burden her with it...but, well..."  
  
"What did she say?" Harry prompted, though by the happy smile on Remus's face he thought that he could already guess the answer.  
  
"She said she couldn't care less if I was a werewolf or if I was an agoraphobic house elf from Mars," Remus said happily. "Also that she was going to try to pass laws in the Ministry that make life easier for werewolves, because things have just gotten worse over the last few years...but Harry, you have no idea how much this means to me. She's the first girlfriend I've had who knows who I am and who really, truly, doesn't care."  
  
"That...that...Remus, that's great!" Harry said enthusiastically, feeling genuinely happy for Remus that he had found someone.  
  
"Thanks, Harry," Remus said, still obviously very pleased. "She said that she would have come to the party herself if she wasn't too busy, I mean, with Voldemort and all... Also, I have to apologize for my somewhat...ecstatic behavior the other day at the hospital...I guess I just sort of lost it."  
  
"You had every right to," Harry assured him. "I would have been worried for you if you *didn't* seem very excited after all that news."  
  
"Yeah, well..." Remus continued talking, but Harry was no longer comprehending what he was saying, for he had just spotted Ginny walking in the living room over Remus's shoulder.  
  
Fortunately, Remus seemed to notifce that his attention was elsewhere, and smiled at Harry. "You go off and do...something. I need to find Sirius to pass on her message."  
  
"He's with Fred and George," Harry said, trying to see into the living room. "I'm sure that they'll want to talk to you as well about...marauding stuff."  
  
Remus nodded. "Yeah, I don't doubt it...see you later, Harry. Happy birthday."  
  
"Thanks...bye." As soon as Remus was gone, Harry moved forward and, pushing aside some of the Christmas lights, slipped into the living room.  
  
Sitting on one of the couches was not only Ginny but Hermione as well. Ron was also there, leaning over the back of the couch to peer over their shoulders, and they all seemed to be poring over a package of some sort... Harry cleared his throat slightly.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione looked up in surprise, and then closed the package quickly once she saw who it was. "I was just showing Ron and Ginny your birthday present, Harry."  
  
"Oh, well, I'll see it later," Harry shrugged, and sat down in a chair across from the couch. "What's up?"  
  
"Nothing," The two girls replied in unison, and Harry raised an eyebrow, exchanging a confused glance with Ron.  
  
"Oh, well, there is something," Ginny amended quickly, and then looked pointedly at Hermione, who seemed to understand immediately, for she jumped up and went around to the other side of the couch to stand next to Ron.  
  
"Come on, Ron," Hermione said imploringly. "Let's go talk to Percy."  
  
Ron stared at her, mouth hanging slightly open. "What do you want to talk to Percy for?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know, cause he's an, um, interesting person. Very opinionated," Hermione said hastily.  
  
Ron continued to stare. "Is there another Percy in this house that someone failed to tell me about?"  
  
"It doesn't matter...oh, just come on, Ron!" Hermione pleaded. However, instead of moving, Ron turned to Harry with a thoughtful expression. "Harry, don't you think Hermione and Percy would make a good couple? I mean, on their dates, they could go to study in the library or something..." Harry snorted.  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what we'd do, study in the library, now come *on*!" Hermione let out in a rush, then grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him out of the living room.  
  
Harry and Ginny watched them leave. They were silent for a moment before Ginny turned, grinning, to Harry. "Ron can be a bit clueless sometimes, don't you think?"  
  
"Yeah, um...yeah," Harry had begun fidgeting as he talked, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. It felt so strange to be nervous around Ginny- hadn't it always been the other way around? Hadn't Ginny always been nervous around him? He'd always just regarded her as his best friend's younger sister-someone he knew, not really a friend. She had been a bit annoying in her younger years, but she had been obviously growing up and was much more mature than she once had been.  
  
"Harry, do you, um, remember what we talked about at St. Mungo's?" She asked abruptly.  
  
Harry nodded, his face growing slightly red. "Yeah, why?"  
  
"Well, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about all that," Ginny let out quickly. "I mean, I've liked you for years, and when I was younger I was a bit of a moron about it-giggling and stuff all over the place-I know that must have been pretty annoying."  
  
"No, it wasn't too bad," Harry said. It was half-true: He had pretty much gotten into the habit of simply disregarding her behavior around him until his third or fourth year, when she had begun to grow up a bit.  
  
"Well, you can't say that that ridiculous Valentine I sent you back in my first year 'wasn't too bad'!" Ginny said indigantly.  
  
Harry laughed at the memory, which, at the time, had mortified him. The Valentine arriving in the middle of the crowded hallway...Harry could remember feeling disgusted with Gilderoy Lockhart's Valentines Day antics. "Yeah, that was pretty..."  
  
"Stupid?" Ginny supplied dully, but there was a smile flickering around the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Harry laughed again. He was suddenly feeling less nervous now that they had found some common ground.  
  
"I was such an idiot," Ginny muttered. "'Eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad...'" She scowled at the floor, then looked up at Harry, who was staring at her. Their eyes locked together for a moment, then, at the same time, the two of them burst into simultaneous laughter.  
  
"What...what exactly were you thinking of when you wrote that line?" Harry gasped, when their laughter had subsided a bit.  
  
"I...honestly don't know," Ginny admitted, taking a deep breath and leaning back in her seat. "I mean, your eyes are green, and pickled toads are green, so I guess I thought that a simile about it was kind of poetic...hey, don't give me that look, I was only eleven!" She added, grinning, upon seeing that Harry had started laughing again.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Eleven is still pretty young," Harry said once he had stopped laughing again. "A lot of people are stupid at eleven...I know I did a few stupid things in my first year...although," He couldn't suppress a snort. "I didn't write Valentines about pickled toads..."  
  
He had expected her to start laughing again at the memory, but instead, she was looking at the floor.  
  
"I did more than one stupid thing that year," She said quietly, not looking up and meeting his eyes.  
  
Harry's laughing mood ceased immediately. "You mean...with Riddle's diary?" He asked, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable again.  
  
"Yeah," Ginny answered simply, still quiet and still staring at the floor.  
  
Harry sat up quickly, looking hard at her. "That wasn't your fault. You were a little kid, and you were tricked. I was tricked, too, in the beginning, when I first saw the diary. No one blamed you then, and no one's blaming you now," Harry finished so fiercely that she looked up at him in surprise.  
  
"Harry, I could have gotten you and Ron killed! It was because of me you that you were in the Chamber in the first place!"  
  
"No, it wasn't! It wasn't because of you, it was because of Voldemort!" Ginny gave an involuntary shudder at the name, but Harry ignored it. "It wasn't your fault that you were trapped down there in the Chamber! It wasn't your fault that Ron and I went after you! You were young! I probably would have done the same thing if I had been in your position at that age! Come on, Ginny, have you really been blaming yourself for all this since your first year?"  
  
She looked at finally. "And what if I have?" She said defensively. "You were the one who was fighting that basilisk thing because of me-"  
  
Harry shook his head in disbelief, cutting her off. "You sound just like me! Someone-I don't remember who it was, Sirius or Hermione or someone- told me that I'm always blaming myself for stuff that I have no control over, and that's like what you're doing, Ginny! Ron doesn't blame you, Dumbledore doesn't blame you, Colin or Justin or Hermione or Nearly Headless Nick or any of the other Petrified people don't blame you, Dumbledore doesn't blame you, and..." He paused. "Me, who fought that 'basilisk thing'...I don't blame you, Ginny. So calm down." A flicker of a smile appeared on his face. "I sound like I'm lecturing, you, don't I?"  
  
She didn't answer right away, just stared at Harry, as though she had never seen anything like him before. "I...I don't know, Harry. I mean, I suppose that you're probably right-"  
  
"I *am* right," Harry interjected, but she just shook her head slightly.  
  
"Yeah, probably-I just can't help feeling a bit responsible for everything, you know what I mean? Wait-of course you know! You probably feel a little responsible for...I mean...well...oh..."  
  
Ginny's voice trailed off, but Harry nodded to show that he understood at the same time that something unpleasant squirmed in his stomach. "For Cedric? Yeah, I do, so..." He paused again. "I know what you mean, so...can we wallow in our self pitying arrogance together?"  
  
Harry was happy to see her laugh now. "Yeah, sounds good to me..." She said, smiling.  
  
He swallowed, as inspiration flitted through his mind. When he next spoke, it was slowly, so as to form coherent words. "Do you, um, I mean, when we get back to Hogwarts, do you, uh, want to wallow in our self pitying arrogance together...literally? I mean, we could just, er..." This was harder than he had thought that it would be. "Hang out together sometime or something?"  
  
Ginny looked at him quickly. "Yeah, that sounds...that sounds great, Harry! You really want to?"  
  
"Yeah, I mean..." Harry swallowed quickly. "Yeah."  
  
They didn't have time to say anything more, however, as a loud group of people that consisted of Sirius, Remus, Fred, and George entered the living room.  
  
"And then we have these Canary Creams," George was telling Remus as they seated themselves in various places around the room. "They're little candies, and when you eat them you turn into a huge canary for a bit..."  
  
Remus laughed. "That's certainly...unusual."  
  
"Thanks!" Fred said immediately, grinning. "We want our stuff to be unusual, you know, not like the other stuff on the market...we don't want to be continually associated with Zonkos products and things, we want to be different..."  
  
As the twins went on about various products of the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Sirius looked over at Harry, smiled, and then his eyes swept across the room towards Ginny, who was sitting opposite Harry. His gaze caught Harry's. Harry blushed yet again as his godfather looked at him significantly, gave Ginny a questioning jerk of his head, and then began to grin broadly and wiggle his eyebrows.  
  
Turning away from Sirius quickly so as to avoid laughing out loud and having a face the color of a ripe tomato, Harry jumped to his feet and started speaking to the room at large.  
  
"I'm...uh...going to have some more cake...uh...yeah," He finished lamely, then began to move quickly out of the living room.  
  
Since Fred, George, and Remus were immersed in conversation-now about the twins latest plans, something called "Skiving Snackboxes"-Sirius was the only who noticed as Ginny jumped up to follow Harry out of the room. Shaking his head slightly with amusement, he turned back to the conversation, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Two weeks later*  
  
Harry was sitting on a small bed in a small room, looking through some of his birthday presents that he had received from his friends' two weeks prior.  
  
Sirius was in the small room next door. They were in a small apartment, with a small kitchen, a small living room, etc. Basically, everything was pretty small.  
  
"It's only temporary," Sirius had promised Harry when they had moved in a couple of days before. "I didn't want to burden the Weasleys any longer, they've already done so much, so this is just where we'll be until we find a real place."  
  
But frankly, Harry didn't care. He was quickly having the best summer of his life-minus, of course, the Voldemort attacks, Sirius's previous injuries, and his little time traveling excursion-but spending so much time with the people that he cared about was making him extremely happy, to say the least.  
  
And Sirius-he was finally getting time to spend prolonged time with his godfather. Time that wasn't spent worrying about one another's health constantly, or about who might find Sirius or see them talking together and alert the Ministry, or spent in desperate moments of running from authorities. They should have spent time together for the last fourteen years, but due to unfortunate circumstances, they didn't.  
  
But both Harry and Sirius knew that they couldn't change the past, and that the time that they lost was time lost forever-but they had to concentrate on the now, on the present. To spend time together when they could, because with the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, nobody knew whom the next victims could be.  
  
That was the one thing that was putting a damper on Harry's summer- and a thought that invaded his mind nearly every day and, without fail, every night: The fact that Voldemort was back at full power. That there had already been several attacks on major British cities, and that many more people were getting hurt and dying.  
  
If there was one thing that Harry was worried about, it was the safety of his friends. Although Sirius had told Harry solemnly only the other day that he would never let anything happen to his godson, not "while I can help it," that didn't guarantee the safety of everyone. He was not only worried about the Weasleys and Remus and Colette and all of his Hogwarts teachers and friends who lived in the magical world, but for Hermione and her Muggle family as well. And that was a lot of people to worry about.  
  
But Harry shoved these disturbing thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the task in front of him: sifting through and organizing his birthday presents.  
  
He had just begun to return to the job when he heard the rustle of clothes and movement outside of his room. Harry looked up towards his open door, and saw that Sirius was leaning against the doorframe, watching him and smiling slightly. Harry had been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Sirius's entrance.  
  
"Hey," Sirius said. "You okay there? You seemed really out of it."  
  
Harry shook his head. "Nah, I was just thinking."  
  
"'Bout what?" Sirius asked, coming over to sit on Harry's bed.  
  
Harry sighed, gesturing around at his presents, which were scattered around him. "I don't know. Stuff. Voldemort. The attacks. Stuff."  
  
Sirius smiled sadly at him as he leaned back onto Harry's pillows, his legs crossed. "If I could choose a different time for you to grow up in, kid, I would," He said grimly after a moment of silence. "The next few years aren't going to be very easy, that I can say with full confidence."  
  
"I know, but there's not very much that we can do about it, can we?" Harry sighed, dropping Hermione's present-which he had just picked up, and it was, unsurprisingly, a book-back on to his lap. He stared at his knees, before looking up to find that Sirius was watching him carefully.  
  
"You know, Harry," He said slowly. "You are one of the last people in the world who I thought would have said that. Go figure."  
  
"Huh?" Harry stared at him.  
  
Sirius sighed and sat up, resting his hands on his thighs, shaking his head and looking faintly amused. "Harry, my boy, is there really not very much we can do about it? Is there really not very much?"  
  
Harry still stared at him.  
  
Sirius smiled grimly. "Harry, Harry, Harry-we can *fight*, kiddo. Fight. What do you think the Order of the Phoenix is for?" He added gently.  
  
Harry was still staring at him, but this time there was realization flickering through his eyes, although followed quickly by confusion. "The Order of the Phoenix? What...what's that?"  
  
Sirius looked for a moment as if he was about to answer, but then seemed to change his mind at the last moment. "No, that...that's for another time."  
  
Harry frowned at him. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Sirius."  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. "I know you're not, Harry. Believe me, I know that. You've been through more things at fifteen than few people ever have in their lifetime. It was because of what you've been through, in fact, that made me so surprised that you thought that there wasn't really anything that we could do...but back to the point. Some things are only valuable if they're kept somewhat secret. Now's not the time. You're time will come eventually, though. I promise you that."  
  
They were silent for a few seconds, then Harry said, "So...this Order of the Phoenix is an order that fights Voldemort?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you're in it?"  
  
"Well, yes, but that's all you're gonna get out of me," Sirius grinned at him, but by the firm tone of his godfather's voice, Harry knew that he wasn't going to find out any more than that for the time being.  
  
"I'm going to do all I can to fight back, though," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Because the only way that we can resist Voldemort's rule is by resisting the rule, right? Resistance. We're not going to beat around the bush at all, we're going to plunge straight through and fight. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, am I correct? We will fight this war. It may take five weeks or five decades for it to end, but it will end. We will fight it for as long as it takes, and honestly, Harry, I believe that after all the fighting-I believe that we will win."  
  
There was an almost ringing silence as Sirius's powerful words seemed to echo throughout the small room, but then Harry said, smiling, "Well, if everyone has attitudes like that and stamina, drive, energy, and skills to match, we'll win the war tomorrow."  
  
Sirius gave his laugh which amused Harry to no end (as it's sound oddly resembled that of a bark) and said, "Harry, my boy, you are truly a diamond among the coals." He stood up suddenly and reached inside his robes, pulling out an envelope. "Well, here's the real reason I came in here-Hedwig flew through my window with this, I think she thought it was your window-anyway, it's a letter."  
  
He handed it to Harry, who pushed aside Hermione's present to take it from him. Sirius stood hovering above the bed, watching as his godson slit open the envelope and pulled several pieces of parchment from within, noting with pride how much he had grown since he had first seen Harry (after he had escaped from Azkaban) in Magnolia Crescent, nearly two years before...  
  
"It's from the Weasleys," Harry muttered suddenly, jerking Sirius out of his thoughts. "A letter from Ron, a-" Here, he let out a snort. "- Weasleys Wizard Wheezes order form from Fred and George, and a..." He opened the piece of paper, staring at it. "A letter from Ginny!"  
  
Sirius grinned. "A letter from Ginny, eh? Hah...I was watching you two at the Burrow, you know."  
  
Harry looked up at him surprise, blushing slightly at the mere thought of it. "You...were?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, I wasn't following you around and hiding in corners listening to your conversation or anything, but I did watch you a bit, and you reminded me of..." Here he paused for a moment in order to give Harry a devilish smile. "You reminded me of your parents when they first started going out."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "We did?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, most definitely. Nothing really specific, just general things-like how you acted with each other and stuff. But I did get a real case of déjà vu-and it wasn't only me, Remus noticed it, as well."  
  
Harry grinned and started flipping through the papers, but then looked up as Sirius said, "Listen, kid, I have things to do in the morning, so I'm going to head off to bed."  
  
"What?" Harry said quickly, looking quickly at his watch in surprise (Sirius had gotten him a new one, since his old one had been ruined in the second task) and saw that it was nearly half past twelve. "Oh...I didn't realize that it was so late."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'll see you in the morning, kiddo, okay?" Sirius reached out to ruffle Harry's hair slightly, and slid his hand down from Harry's head to his shoulder. Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and looking into Harry's eyes, he said, "Good night."  
  
"Night," Harry responded, meeting his eyes, and then smiling at Sirius as he left the room.  
  
After his godfather had left, Harry just sat quietly on his bed, not moving, just sitting and thinking about their conversation. Why *had* he said that there was nothing to be done? Of course they could fight back. Fighting back was the only way to get through things like this; one couldn't just sit on the sidelines and watch as Voldemort took over the world.  
  
Harry sighed. He knew that he should really be getting to bed, it was getting very late, and chances were that he was going to be woken up by Sirius doing whatever he had to do in the morning, so he really should get some sleep.  
  
*I just want to look at this a little,* Harry thought suddenly, glancing at Hermione's present. At first Harry had disregarded it somewhat, but in the past couple of days he had actually begun to find it quite interesting, and had spent a good amount of time browsing through it, no caring that it was a Muggle book.  
  
It was a collection of poems. All different types of pomes, in all different genres. It was called "A Golden Treasury of Poetry."  
  
Pushing aside the papers from the Weasleys to read in the morning, he opened the book and reread the note that Hermione had written to him in the inside front cover:  
  
Harry-  
  
My mum has a very old copy of this book from when she was a little  
girl. I used to look through it all the time when I was younger, and I  
was looking through it again in the beginning of the summer holidays-  
before I met you in the street, of course. I thought that it would be  
a lovely gift and found out that even all these years later, the book  
is still in print! So, I got it for you. My favorite section is the  
last one, called "Guiding Stars." It's a collection of guiding and  
inspirational poems, and I find that I really love the last poem in  
the book especially, it's quite beautiful. And also, with everything  
that has been happening as of late, I think that it's quite  
appropriate, besides just being a wonderful poem.  
  
Happy birthday!--Hermione  
  
The last poem in the book...Harry hadn't looked all the way back there yet, though he had looked through the "Guiding Stars" section and understood why Hermione liked it so much. Although he loved the book as a whole, many of the poems in that section were by far his favorite.  
  
*Just one poem,* He promised himself. *Then I'll go to bed.*  
  
If he was only going to read one poem, why not make it the one that Hermione loved so much? He was really curious to see what it was...  
  
So Harry flipped to the very back of the book.  
  
Before the majority of the poems of the book, there was a short prologue of sorts written about the poem itself. Harry leaned back onto his bed to read the prologue for Hermione's favorite poem, which was called "Invictus", by William Ernest Henley.  
  
*That's an odd name,* Harry thought. *Sounds like it's Latin or something...* He began to read the prologue:  
  
No matter how often it has been repeated-and it had been reprinted and  
recited endlessly--*Invictus* remains a stirring statement of the  
courageous and heroic spirit. The very title means invincible.  
  
*Well, that explains the name,* Harry thought, smiling slightly. Then he began to read the poem itself, and on a whim began to whisper the words out loud to the night:  
  
Invictus  
  
Out of the night that covers me,  
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,  
I thank whatever gods may be  
For my unconquerable soul.  
  
In the fell clutch of circumstance  
I have not winced nor cried aloud.  
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
My head is bloody, but unbowed.  
  
Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the horror of the shade,  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.  
  
It matters not how strait the gate,  
How charged with punishments the scroll,  
I am the master of my fate:  
I am the captain of my soul.  
  
His voice seemed to reverberate throughout the night, leaving Harry sitting and staring at the book in awe as the powerful words echoed in his mind.  
  
"Well," He muttered finally, laying the book slowly down onto his lap. "Hermione was right. That was certainly appropriate."  
  
And it *was* appropriate. Although Harry had never been very good at interpreting symbolism in literature or whatnot, the meaning of the poem and how it related to him and his life seemed as plain and clear as was the feeling of his bed beneath him.  
  
The poem was talking about bravery and courage when facing the dangerous and impossible. About keeping your chin up and living and having a thick skin, no matter what. About being in charge of yourself and your life. But most of all, the poem was about going through all obstacles, and emerging not only alive, but remaining human as well.  
  
Now Harry fully understood why Hermione had said that it was appropriate, more than he had a moment before. Because now, he realized, *he* seemed to be the personification of the qualities expressed in the poem, and-now that he thought about it-Sirius was, as well.  
  
They had both been through so much: Azkaban, losing people extremely close to them, both being rejected and alone in every sense of the words, facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters, overcome things that few people have ever done before...and in the end, they were alive. They were healthy. They were happy. But most importantly, they were humans who could love. They loved people. They loved each other. And they-despite everything-loved the world.  
  
That was why everyone had to resist Voldemort. Although Harry felt sure that his and Sirius's and the magical world's trials and tribulations were far from over, that they would still go through more, he felt that the poem seemed to have given him a new motivation...a new *reason* to fight.  
  
They had to fight. They had to fight in order to preserve the world as they knew it, in order to preserve love and friendship and trust and bravery and freedom. To preserve the ideals that the poem expressed, to make it so people could still carry through with what the poem was saying. To preserve humanity.  
  
They had to fight. They would fight. And right then Harry felt sure that, like Sirius had said, not only would they fight-but they would win.  
  
The End.  
  
~*~  
  
Wow. It's...it's all over. Wow. I can't believe it. I spent over a year working on this story...wow. Although I really did procrastinate when it came to this chapter! I felt so sad about getting it done that I avoided it a bit...ah, sorry guys! But I was sitting for so long while writing this my butt actually went numb...I'm not joking!  
  
Okay, um-I think I'm just going to leave this nice little story on it's own, no sequel or anything-partly because I have no clue what I would write as a sequel, and partly because I like it very much the way it is. But you will definitely be seeing things from me on the site still. I have lots of little one chapter stories in mind, not to mention a bunch of long ones like this. There probably won't be anything until September though, because I'm going away for a couple of weeks very soon without access to a computer, so...  
  
But keep your eyes open! I might be altering my pen name a little, but I'll still keep the word "rainbow" in it. So maybe mark my bio page or something, and check back every once in a while...chances are you'll be seeing a handful of one chapter posts from me. Now I'll have more opportunity to write them since I won't be responsible for getting a new chapter up for Out of the Night...heh...  
  
Oh, yeah! The book "A Golden Treasury of Poetry" is actually a real one, and I-like Hermione-have an old copy of it from when my mom was kid. There is a section called "Guiding Stars" and "Invictus" is the last poem in the book, and the prologue was written by...er...Louis Untermeyer. Just so I don't get sued or anything.  
  
Also, as this whole story (the beginning in particular) is in desperate need of redoing, so if any of you at some point decide to come and read my story again later on, it'll probably be...er...better, cause I'm gonna revise it.  
  
How do you like Gandalf's fireworks, eh? I actually only added it in when I was rereading the chapter, and remembered how a reviewer of OotP noted that Gandalf's dragon fireworks made an appearance with Fred and George's fireworks. And the, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good"? Ha, the Marauders live! Oh, um, I hope this chapter makes sense...because a lot of it is just literally following my train of thought, which I hope doesn't make it confusing...  
  
Wow, rounded out to 140 reviews...oh, uh, do you want me to add to this chapter when I get back in September with responses to your last reviews? Say so, cause if no one mentions it, I won't...  
  
The Elfin Child: You know what I should do? I should find a stuffed black dog and name it Padfoot!  
  
Oooh, party! And yes, that will make people extremely dizzy, especially my mom, who sometimes gets nauseous just watching my brother play video games... Your review actually inspired me to put those lights- courtesy of Fred and George-in the surprise party. Seems like something they'd do, eh? Flashy and crazy and Marauder-y. Ought to make Moony and Padfoot proud.  
  
Trust me, I can't believe it's over, either...  
  
Yuffie-Girl: Lol yeah, I decided against no sequel, but like I said before, I will have stuff popping up every now and then...  
  
A tone of Sirius...yeah, that's a really good way of putting it. The veil...I THINK (and I repeat, I THINK, this is all guesswork) that the veil is sort of the veil between life and death. I mean, just the words "beyond the veil" can be very symbolic, the...uh...separation line, so to speak, between life and death is often called a veil or a curtain or something. Also...my guess is that it's a very old, out of use version of the wizard death penalty (ironic, considering how Sirius was a wanted man)-remember how the room seemed like it was an amphitheater or something, with seats all around? Like there would be audience, like at the courtrooms. That, and what Luna says at the end of the book-the implications about an afterlife.  
  
Also, I think Lupin knows more about the veil than he was letting on. I mean, once Sirius fell through, he seemed pretty darn sure that there was no way to get him back, that he was gone. I'm positive that we're going to learn more about the veil in later books, and as far the body...as far as I can tell, I THINK that Sirius's body never appeared on the other side, maybe...lol I dunno! Here's your epilogue, anyway!  
  
cara: Lol you've been following this story ever since it started and only review at the last chapter? Shame on you! ::smiles:: I'm just kidding...  
  
One of the things that I was rather worried about was whether the romance was well developed or not, and I'm glad that you pointed that out. As I said before, I'm going to be doing a revision at some point in my lifetime, and I'll definitely try to make the Remus/Colette-ness more developed (and maybe the Harry/Ginny, if I find it necessary) and not as unlikely. Although, on another note, I am extremely glad that I had completely worked out Colette before I read the fifth book-otherwise, I might have unconsciously made her too much like Tonks or something...  
  
Thanks, though! I'm glad you liked my story so much! Trust me, I'll miss it, too...  
  
Erynwen: Yeah, the beginning is sort of slow and-er-bad, isn't it? Like I said before, I'm planning on giving everything a big old makeover. I'm happy that you like it so much, though! And here's your epilogue! Oh, yeah- I might check out your Harry Potter poem tonight or tomorrow, so...  
  
Goodbye everyone! You've all been fantastic reviewers, and I'm sure that there are some readers out there who have never reviewed, but you're all fantastic, too! Thanks sooooo much for encouragement for my first story that was not written for school and has been completed! (I'm not kidding; I never finished a story before this.) Love ya guys! Weasley is our king! Let's give Umbridge hell, just like Fred said! Long live the Marauders! (Everyone, solemnly swear that you are up to no good!) Remember Padfoot!  
  
The message that I gave at the very end is a real one that I believe in. It may not be literal-we're not fighting dark lords or anything-but it's true, all the same. And remember to, seventy years from now when we are all old and in our rocking chairs, keep the spirit of Harry Potter alive forever.  
  
Cheers! 


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